Along the Rochdale Canal

Like the Leeds-Liverpool Canal, the Rochdale is a trans-Pennine route and therefore climbs to a great height, with many locks - in fact, 91 along its 32 mile length. It stretches from Manchester to Sowerby Bridge (where it joins the Calder and Hebble Navigation). It was designed to facilitate the transport of goods between the industrial heartland of Yorkshire, Lancashire and the Manchester docks. It opened in stages between 1798 and 1804. By the 1930s, it was in trouble and it finally closed, unusable, in the 1960s. After many threats to build roads and buildings over it, leading to the formation of various pressure groups and many local fights, it was gradually reopened in stages, until in 2002 the whole length was once again navigable. Like the Leeds-Liverpool, its viability is still fragile owing to issues with water supply, lack of funding and deterioration of the structure and the locks.  Who knows what will happen to these brave reminders of our industrial past? Personally, I love the scenery and stories of our canals and fervently hope they will continue for boaters and walkers to enjoy. 

A buddha on a boat struck me as very 'Hebden Bridge'. It's long been an 'alternative' place, beloved of hippies, arty types and those in search of a certain kind of freedom and peace. 

Hebden Bridge

On Remembrance Sunday, in the relentless drizzle, I decided to make the most of the atmospheric conditions with a walk along the Rochdale Canal in Hebden Bridge. (I am, as you know, quite partial to a walk along a canal towpath! 😉 ) The view above is the iconic panorama, looking east from the bridge near the centre of the town. Whoever had the idea of painting those windows frames, in the weaver's cottages backing on to the canal, in different colours was a genius! 

The building with the chimney (above) was once a mill, but was damaged in a fire in 1964. It was rebuilt around the chimney and now serves as a nursery, where my younger granddaughter happily spent some of her pre-school years. 

This area (above), in the centre of town, is known as Butlers Wharf, presumably at one time an area where boats unloaded and goods were stored. The existing building, whilst resembling a local mill or warehouse, may I suspect be a new-ish build. It holds retail premises, a restaurant and some apartments, and at one time the local visitor information centre, though whether that is still open, I'm not sure. 

The canal continues west towards Todmorden (and ultimately Rochdale and Manchester), passing various repurposed mill buildings and rows of Victorian terraced houses. It has a very different character from my local Leeds-Liverpool Canal but is equally interesting and scenic in its own way. 

 

The men and the moon

I popped out for a walk slightly later than I habitually do, but it was a lovely evening and I enjoyed my stroll. Sunset (behind me) translated into pink clouds to the east - and a rising, almost full, 'Beaver' moon. 

At the moment there are large scale works going on above and below the canal and alongside the playing fields, and the crews were just packing up at the end of the day. I'm not exactly sure what they are doing but it has to do with the drains and sewerage system. Considerable lengths of temporary roadway have been laid for the vans and equipment. They appear to be clearing out and relining pipes (such a stench the other day!) and installing what looked to be large concrete chambers, possibly for storage or water treatment. I may be wrong but I suspect the work has to do with plans by the water authorities to reduce sewage outflow into the rivers. There's recently been a lot of fuss about the pollution in our waterways. Sewage outflow is allowed when storms overfill the system but it seems that discharges have been happening much more frequently. 

Sunshine on Salts

Blue sky, bright sunshine - and Salts Mill was looking every inch worthy of its status as the focal point of the Saltaire World Heritage Site. Opened in 1853 by its founder Sir Titus Salt, and at that time the largest and most technologically advanced factory in the world, it brought together on one site all the stages of the process of making fine woollen cloth. 

It closed as a textile mill in 1986 and faced dereliction, before it was saved by the entrepreneur Jonathan Silver, who had a vision to turn it into a centre for business and recreation, with restaurants, shops and art galleries alongside the commercial spaces. It's still run by his family, though Jonathan sadly died in 1997 and his wife Maggie in 2023. Now their daughter, Zoe, is the leading force behind the enterprise. See HERE. 

Dancing light

As I walked between Salts old and new mills, I was treated to my very own light show. The sunlight glinting off something (either the windows of the New Mill or the water in the canal) made wonderful shifting patterns on the stonework, which then - rather magically - were in their turn reflected in the water.  

My favourite bit

With each passing season, the 'centres of interest' at Harlow Carr change - spring bulbs and blossom give way to the colours of summer in the borders and the russet tints of autumn in the woodland, and then the bright stems and wonderful fragrances along the winter walk. 

There's one small area, however, that I love in all seasons. I've come to realise it's actually my top favourite bit, and so I always make time to wander through. It is the 'nectar alley' in the teaching garden; just two, quite small, borders, with a meandering path between them, strewn with grey stone chippings. It's planted with perennial grasses that sway and ripple in the breeze and in each season it has little pops of bright colour from various plants: cone flowers, teasels, black-eyed susan, lavender, hyssop and verbena bonariensis are just some of those that pop up. 

I find it really inspiring photographically, whether that is trying to capture the complex sweep of plants or individual plant 'portraits'. 

Metallic

As I sat and sipped my coffee, in peaceful contemplation, halfway through my walk round Harlow Carr Gardens, I started to notice the details of the fallen leaves around my feet. The small ones are oak leaves, I think, but I'm not sure of the larger species. (Harlow Carr has many non-native trees that I don't know the names of.) They were about as big as the palm of my hand and the undersides, particularly, had prominent veining that had collected the dew. They were also quite pale in colour and had an almost metallic quality that I've tried to convey. 

(More!) Autumn woodland

I was sitting on a bench sipping my coffee when I noticed this delicate autumn tree against a background of silver birch trunks. I thought it made an interesting, if unconventional, seasonal image. 

There were plenty of more conventional shots to be captured too. As autumn has matured, the trees have been wonderful colours this year. (These shots were taken a couple of weeks ago. The leaves have probably thinned out even more by now.) 

Dancing pixies and other delights

A sunny day enticed me out again and heading for RHS Harlow Carr Gardens seemed like a good plan. I have membership of the Royal Horticultural Society so I like to visit every few months. There's always something new to see. 

Over the years, I've taken more than a few photos of this red table and chairs, now nicely faded. It pleased me to see the shrub with its toning autumnal leaves. (Nothing happens by chance in their planting schemes... It's an education to note and enjoy their combinations of colour, texture, shape.) 

The Alpine House has an ever-changing display of tiny, pretty alpines. (I read that they bring out the different pots from elsewhere, to display when the plants are at their peak.) Lots of saxifrages this time. Loved the colour and the name of this one. 

I'm not 100% sure what the flowers below are. They reminded me of those you sometimes see dried in florists' shops, so I think they may be everlasting flowers or straw flowers, Helichrysum bracteatum. 

The little ponds in the centre of the gardens were surrounded by acers, offering splashes of colour that were doubled by the reflections. 

Some plants in the herbaceous borders were still going strong. Even as we dip down towards winter, there's still a lot to enjoy here.

Remembrance Sunday

St James Church is the parish church of Hebden Bridge, situated a little way out of the town centre. My younger granddaughter is a pupil at the primary school linked to the church. She's joined the worship group and so she was involved in the Remembrance Sunday service at the church. Later, people gathered around the town's war memorial for a short Act of Remembrance led by Rev'd Ruthi Gibbons and Rev'd Canon Major David Banbury (Ret'd).  We observed two minutes silence at 11am, as is traditional. Hebden Bridge Band played a few hymns and, after the laying of poppy wreaths, there were prayers. 

It always seems rather touching that this same act is happening in churches, cathedrals, parks and town squares all over the country at the same time, with congregations large and small. This year marks 80 years since the audacious D-Day Operation Overlord, in the Second World War, when thousands of allied troops stormed the Normandy beaches and subsequently delivered peace on the Western Front. These days, of course, we also reflect on many subsequent wars and pray for peace in the world's current trouble spots. 

Remembrance Day itself is always marked at 11am on the 11th day of the 11th month (today), which is the actual day that the Armistice was signed to end the First World War. 

After a couple of weeks of dry, mild weather, it reverted to type with a damp, drizzly and rather cold day... but then, that's usual for Remembrance Sunday and somehow it wouldn't feel right if it wasn't like that! 

The little Memorial Garden is surrounded by rather wonderful beech trees, and I enjoyed the colouring and shape of the one by the gate. 

A wet street

A sudden heavy downpour soon cleared, leaving Bingley Road awash with puddles. It's not often that I notice reflections of the shops on the tarmac. There is a particularly deep puddle right by the traffic lights, where you wait to cross the road. Those of us in the know stand well back to avoid being drenched as vehicles speed through!  

This row of buildings was originally, I believe, designed as houses with small front gardens when they were built in 1871. By the early 1900s, many of them had become shops and, together with the south side of Bingley Road (which isn't strictly part of Saltaire village), Gordon Terrace, as it's known, is now the main shopping street for the village. Among other things, it has: a Post Office, Co-op supermarket, butcher, greengrocer, bakeries, hairdressers, GP surgery, pharmacist, several charity shops, cafés, restaurants and bars. It's conveniently near my new flat, and was a significant factor in my choice to move.

The Children's Society shop in my photo is a charity shop selling only books, games and CDs. It's a real treasure trove and apparently a very successful outlet in fund-raising terms. 

 

Herons and egrets

I loved the misty softness of the light when I first arrived at Rodley Nature Reserve. From the marsh hides, there were a number of herons and egrets visible. Grey herons like the one above are fairly common around here. (There is a resident on the weir in Roberts Park.)

I've seen little egrets like the one above on the River Aire locally too, but here at Rodley there were four or five of them exploring a creek. 

In the picture below there's a little egret (black beak and legs) on the left and a great white egret on the right, which is bigger and has a yellow bill. The greats are less common in the north of England but are extending their range. 

This little egret was wading around looking for food. They are quite elegant movers.

These photos were taken at the far reach of my 18-135mm (my only) lens, which isn't really long enough for bird photography.  I do, however, like the 'birds in context' style anyway. 

The Peace of Wild Things

'When despair for the world grows in me

and I wake in the night at the least sound

in fear of what my life and my children’s lives may be,

I go and lie down where the wood drake

rests in his beauty on the water, and the great heron feeds.

I come into the peace of wild things

who do not tax their lives with forethought

of grief. I come into the presence of still water.

And I feel above me the day-blind stars

waiting with their light. For a time

I rest in the grace of the world, and am free.'

Wendell Berry: 'The Peace of Wild Things'

When I woke (really early) on Wednesday morning and switched on the TV to hear the news of the election in the USA, it was evident even then that 'the orange one' was pulling off a major comeback. I am gutted; terribly disappointed on so many levels, and not a little fearful of what it means, not only for America but for the whole world order. 

I decided I could either spend my day watching the endless analysis and become even more depressed, or treat myself to a trip out. So I hopped in the car and drove a few miles to Leeds, to the Rodley Nature Reserve. It was peaceful there, especially when I first arrived shortly after it opened and there were few other visitors, though the hides soon filled with other birdwatchers. It was a very still day, not cold, and at first there was a slight mistiness in the air, giving a softness that I really enjoyed. 

There were enough birds to make it interesting. I've rarely seen so many grey herons in one small area. There are four in my photo below and there were others around too. The small, sleeping ducks in the foreground are teal. 

I was able to identify gadwall, widgeon, shoveler ducks, mute swans, teal, mallards, lots of black-headed gulls, lapwing, moorhens, coots, little egrets, magpies, crows, various tits, robins, chaffinches and other small birds. There were some little grebes (dabchicks) diving merrily like small clockwork toys. There was one great white egret, an elegant bird that's beautiful to see. My biggest thrill came from spotting a water rail, a secretive wading bird that was skulking around in the margins of the reeds. I think I've only ever seen one once before. In the garden where they have seed feeders I enjoyed watching several pairs of bullfinches, again a bird that I rarely see but very lovely with a black head, grey wings with black and white markings and a bright pink breast (though the females are paler). 

Many of the leaves have fallen now, and there are few flowers left. These large white umbellifers stood out. No idea on the exact plant; they're all fairly similar to my eye. 

The teasel's spiky seedheads provide winter food for small birds like goldfinches - and were once, apparently, used in the textile trade to 'tease' or raise the nap on woollen cloth. I’ve noticed that National Trust properties often lay them on chairs that they don’t want visitors to sit on. Useful plants! 

Anyway, I enjoyed my trip out and it did, at least, stop me from doom-scrolling all day! 

Diwali garden lights

It wasn't only the inside of East Riddlesden Hall that was decorated and lit for Diwali. The gardens had floodlights, lanterns and strings of white LEDs looped in the trees, with rows of tea lights along the paths. It was all rather magical.