Woodland whispers

When it's as hot as it has been, if I go for a walk I have to choose shade, so a wander through Hirst Woods is very welcome. The big beech trees on the main avenue let little sunshine through, whereas the birch and scrub along the boundaries let the sun penetrate further. I like the effect that gives, shadow giving way to brightness beyond. 

I have some new hearing aids, which I'm trying to get used to. There are a few more things I can hear (the car indicators clicking, for one) but much sounds quite 'clattery' at the moment so I wouldn't yet say I'm hearing any better. I shall persevere. They have more functions and more fine tuning is possible. 

I can never hear birds (apart from the annoying wood pigeons, who keep piping: 'My toe hurts, Betty!' over and over again!) I have recently downloaded an app to my phone that listens for birds and tells you what it can hear, so that's quite interesting.  This was the selection it said it heard at various times on my woodland walk: 

 

Zine

No access, barred gate;

I would like to walk the land,

Crunch leaves, make history.

Regular readers of my blog may remember that earlier this year I booked myself on a photo walk in Hebden Bridge, where I restricted myself to taking square, mono photos (as a challenge and because it was a really dull, damp day that suited the black and white treatment). [See HERE and several posts after that one in late February 2025.] The walk was led by Bryony Good, who is an artist/creator working from a studio in Hebden Bridge. She offers a variety of creative workshops, and has now produced her first 'zine' with contributions from many of her workshop participants. I am delighted to say one of my photos and the accompanying haiku I wrote have been featured in it. It's always a pleasure to see one's work in print. 

As for 'zines', they are a way of presenting work that has almost passed me by. My daughter used to write music zines when she was in her teens but as a medium they were never 'current' for me. I keep thinking maybe it's a format I should use more. Working out a bit cheaper than a hardback book and perhaps allowing a more creative, looser structure, they are an attractive and accessible format for sharing work. 

 

Dowley Gap Mill

A recent walk took me along the little lane from the canal bridge at Dowley Gap towards Hirst Woods. I was rather cheered by all the shasta daisies in flower along the wall beside the building. It seems people have been cutting them; there was a sign asking people not to pick them (as it is actually someone's garden). 

This residential complex was once a small worsted mill and associated cottages, built in 1818. By 1890 the mill was disused - and, I gather, became a brewery for a while. At some point in the 1990s the mill was converted to a dwelling (perhaps apartments?), with a large window inserted into the gable end and a stairwell added. The conversion appears to have been done with care and imagination. The whole site, however, is a bit of a hodge-podge of buildings, some better cared for than others. 

It is accessed by a narrow lane along the canal side from Primrose Lane, past Dowley Gap Locks, which then peters out by the aqueduct. What was until recently a rough scramble up to the aqueduct has recently been made into steps, which makes it much easier walking!  

The 'Seven Arches' aqueduct was, in its day, a substantial engineering feat, built to carry the Leeds-Liverpool Canal over the River Aire. At some point the towpaths have been crudely resurfaced with concrete so that, walking over it, you never appreciate the beauty of the original structure. 

Unfortunately the beauty of this whole small area is somewhat marred by the adjacent sewage works, with paddles slowly rotating in the circular settlement tanks. Depending on the direction of the wind, there is often a nasty odour... so much so that I should not like to live in the mill complex! Perhaps you get used to it. 

I was sure I had, somewhere, several recent photos of the mill complex from the canal side. Can I find them? No. So this picture below is years old and taken in a different season altogether! 

Two favourite trees

Here are my two favourite trees again, in full summer plumage. I took a slightly wider angle on them than I usually do, mainly because the sky was rather wonderful. In the foreground, the hedge that was planted a couple of years ago along the canal side is now beginning to grow strongly. It's good news for wildlife - a healthy, mixed hedge of native species. Bad news, however, for photographers (me) because it will, before long, grow tall enough to obscure this lovely view. I shall have to take a stepladder along with me! 😂

(Click the two trees label below for more pics of them)

Hirst Lock Nature Reserve

Although I walk past it several times a week, looking down into it from the road above, it's quite a while since I actually went into the little nature reserve by Hirst Locks. It is growing abundantly and looks wonderful. The pond looks really healthy, with water lilies in flower and plentiful pondlife. I watched both dragonflies and damsel flies skitting across, their iridescent bodies and wings catching the sun.  

Some small trees that I thought at first were in blossom proved, on closer inspection, to be those pretty flamingo willows with pink and white leaves, Salix integra.

The reserve has an interesting mixture of wild and garden plants. Meadowsweet is in full flower right now and there was lots of that around the pond. The hot pink feathery spikes by the path are, I think, a variety of astilbe - a gorgeous colour. 

Canal artwork

This rather lovely canal artwork was designed and painted some while ago by pupils from Saltaire Primary School. It was initially sited beside Hirst Lock but then, for some reason, the Canal and River Trust or some such body decided it wasn't going to be allowed there any longer and it was moved to decorate the side of a building in Shipley. Now, the original has been scanned and reproduced digitally and a copy has once again been placed near the lock. I think it's rather good; a lovely colourful addition to the area. I believe we have to thank the Bradford 2025 City of Culture for this. As well as the large scale professional events, they are sponsoring a multitude of small, local, community initiatives - art, music, theatre, competitions and cultural events. 

Secret garden

One of my favourite books as a child was 'The Secret Garden' by Frances Hodgson Burnett. The walled garden at Scargill has very much that kind of feel to it, especially at this time of year when everything is lush and growing with wild abandon. It may have been a dry spring and early summer but despite, or perhaps because of, that some things seem to have had a particularly spectacular year, roses for one. 

It's all rather magical and there are many places to sit and enjoy the peace of nature. 

Water and woodland

I took a friend up to Kettlewell, in Upper Wharfedale, for the day recently. She is thinking of having a retreat and I suggested the Christian community at Scargill as a possible place to stay. It seemed a good idea to visit for the day to show her what it's like. It's one of my best loved places, only an hour's drive, and very much a 'thin place' that enables a deep spiritual connection. We stopped for a coffee at the café at Kilnsey Trout Fishery. The view over the fishing lakes is a favourite of mine and I always take a photo there. The leafy trees meant you couldn't see the imposing overhang of Kilnsey Crag in the distance but it's still a gorgeous vista. 

After exploring Scargill House, its chapel and its grounds we went for a walk up through the woods at the back of the estate, along a track that leads up to the Dalesway long distance footpath. We didn't go very far as it was rather wet, but we did go through the gate that I love on that path. It always feels like passing 'from darkness into light' along there! 

Praying for peace

The sun was sinking low behind Saltaire's church as I walked past. Along the drive, white bunting danced in the strong breeze. It's not usually decked with bunting unless there is a fair or a special occasion, but I think it may be linked to the poster by the gate that encourages us to be 'Praying for Peace'. There is so much war and unrest, in Europe, the Middle East and beyond, with few signs that peace may be achieved in the near future. Prayer feels like the only thing most of us can do in the face of all the aggression. 

O God of all hope and peace, we bring to you the needs of our broken and hurting world.

Our hearts are breaking with images of lives lost and torn apart by grief 

in Ukraine, in Israel, in Palestine and Gaza, in Iran and in so many other places.

We pray for an end to violence and warfare so that the challenging work of rebuilding may begin.

Help us, O Lord, to affirm our common humanity 

so that in our differences we may build together for justice and peace.

In Jesus Christ, our Lord.

Amen.

(The Church of England - Prayers for Peace and Hope)

Pavement faces

I came across this on my walk, and immediately saw a face. Can you see it too? He wouldn't have lasted long as it was extremely windy so I decided I'd immortalise him. 

He reminded me of one I took several years ago, but this one's definitely female! 

A sunset, at last

We finally had a 'proper' sunset last night, after weeks of low cloud blocking the horizon. Good sunsets do need a bit of cloud and this one had some artistic and impressionistic wisps that almost looked like I'd put a long exposure on the photo. (I didn't.)  They never look quite as pretty in pictures as they do in real life. It's hard to get the colours both soft and saturated. I love to see them though. 

Cool green on hot days

Hours of wonderful tennis to enjoy from Wimbledon, some rather warm weather and some very windy days too, have conspired to keep me indoors (rather guiltily!) When I have been out, it's been refreshing to walk by water and among trees. The fresh greens of spring are giving way to that darker, rather dull and dusty, uniform green that summer adopts but, even so, the effect of all that green is cooling and soothing.  

Various scientific studies have confirmed the cooling effect of trees but you don't need a research study to notice the difference between a hot urban pavement and a shady woodland walk. We need more trees everywhere, for all sorts of reasons. 

I'm grateful for plenty of local options - woodland, parks, riverside and canalside... even if the walk home, uphill on hard pavements, often feels like a slog. Once home, I can cool off with an iced drink. I can hardly keep up with the necessary production of ice cubes (though I refuse the option of actually buying a bag of them from the supermarket!). 

Given the dry weather since early spring, Yorkshire Water has just announced a hosepipe ban. That in itself isn't an issue for me as I have no need of hosepipe for anything, but it will perhaps mean that the local hand car wash has to close, so I'll be driving around with a dusty car.  (A bucket wash, from a first floor flat, isn't really feasible.)  

The heron had the right idea, standing with his feet in cool water. I wonder if the low water level in the river impacts their feeding?  Maybe it makes it easier to find the fish? 

Towards Minimalism

I sat in on a very interesting photography talk on Zoom recently. The speaker was Caroline Preece and her subject was 'Minimalism'. I don't really think of myself as a 'minimalist' photographer, most of the time, but the images she showed kept reminding me of photos in my archive, so I dug a few of them out. 

Her criteria for minimalism were: 

- the images contain only what is absolutely necessary

- they have intent

- there is simplicity in the composition

- they contain 'negative space'

- they have a limited colour palette 

- they have balance and intentional framing

- they may contain elements of rhythm, pattern or repetition

Most of my selected photos fail these criteria on one or more levels, but I do think they are inclining towards minimalism at least. I began to realise that it's a topic that really interests me, so I shall have to think a bit more about it and try a few more intentional shots.  

The three images here are from my archives and I may have shown a couple of them on my blog before, though not for a long time. I just like them and they have stuck in my mind, for whatever reason. 

Sunset in a puddle

With all the lovely weather we've been having, I've been hoping for some good sunsets, but none have materialised. It seems that each evening a bank of low cloud builds up on the horizon, obscuring whatever sunset there might be. There are occasional wisps of pink and I caught a few lodged in a puddle. 

A family heirloom

Here's another of the pictures that I have on display in my apartment. It's relatively small, only 25 x 20cm. It's one of the few pieces I inherited from my paternal grandparents. I always liked it, even as a child, so I am very happy to have it. My mother didn't really know much about it but I presume it's Japanese, with Mount Fuji in the background. We guess it was brought back from the Far East after WWII. My dad's younger brother was stationed there for a while, after the war (I suppose when he was doing National Service) so it seems likely he brought it back as a gift. The top picture seems to be painted on very thin wood, and the bottom one on paper. The subtle pink and peach tones are lovely. I don't think it is more than a 'tourist souvenir' of the time but I'm very fond of it and it's been in my possession at least since the early 1980s, after my grandparents died. 

A walk by the Aire

Half a mile or so north of Airton, on the way to Malham, lies the hamlet of Scosthrop. There's a farm shop and tearoom here, which provided a tasty lunch and respite from the drizzle for our camera club group.

At the back there's a wonderful view up the dale and you can probably make out in the distance the limestone scar that is the famous Malham Cove. 

Just opposite the farm shop is the handsome Scosthrop Manor (below) built in 1603. (If you want a peek inside this house, see this press article HERE.) 

From here we walked along the riverside path back to Airton.

The river is the infant River Aire, whose source is a stream from Malham Tarn that disappears into the limestone and then surfaces in a spring just outside Malham. It winds its way south, gathering strength, eventually passing through Saltaire and on through Leeds to its confluence with the Ouse.  I did wonder whether the water I could see here might arrive in Saltaire before or after me. Google informs me that the river flows on average at 5 miles per hour and the distance to Saltaire is about 25 miles so it might be there in about five hours. Interesting. 

Along the way we passed bits of old machinery related to when the Airton mill was working: various cogs and sluices. 

And then we came to the mill itself, once a corn mill for the village, then a cotton spinning mill during the Industrial Revolution. 

It's now been converted into apartments: Riverside Walk. One of our group told of when he was working on the construction site during the conversion. He'd just gone for a tea break when the bit of the building he had been in suddenly collapsed! Such disasters notwithstanding, the conversion appears to have been sympathetically done. The loggia below had a bit of a French feel to it, I thought. 

Airton's Quaker Meeting House

Our main reason for going to Airton was to visit the Quaker Meeting House, since one of our members is a keyholder. It was built in the early 1600s, with the blessing of the landowner, as a meeting place for dissenters (Seekers), incorporating an earlier thatched roofed barn, which may have acted as a disguise, since dissenter meetings were illegal. It was certainly used as a Quaker Meeting House from the early 1650s, and it's recorded that George Fox, one of the Puritan founders of the Religious Society of Friends (aka Quakers) came here in 1652. 

In 1700, as recorded on the date stone above the door, it was purchased and endowed to the Quakers by William and Alice Ellis, who lived in the house opposite (see yesterday). They extended it, with a stables or barn and a cottage at the far end. These have been converted since, to be used as hostel accommodation and for a warden. 

The earliest burial in the tiny graveyard was that of Isabell Wilkinson in 1663. 

Inside, the Meeting House remains largely unaltered since the 17th and early 18th centuries. The large room is partitioned with an oak drop-leaf partition and a mezzanine floor above. It was originally unheated but a fireplace was added at some point and now there is some heating, though I noted that the central benches still have sheep's fleece coverings and plenty of blankets. At one time all the wood was painted over but in a fairly recent renovation the paint was stripped off. 

It is still used as a Quaker Meeting House, one of the oldest in the country, and can be hired for community use and events. Like most such places, it has a very peaceful air. Quakers don't have a creed. Their faith is shaped by shared values that underpin their behaviour and choices: to live relatively simply, in harmony with nature, the world and other people; to live ethically, truthfully, peaceably and with high integrity. Some of the most radical social changes in our society, like the abolition of slavery, have been led by Quaker reformers, who have been staunch and radical in their commitment to peace, equality and social justice.