Tree hugging

I'm very fortunate that, within a fifteen minute walk up or downhill, I can be surrounded by trees. A bit of 'tree hugging' or forest bathing is proven to bring calm and improve wellbeing. It usually works for me. Breathing in all the phytoncides that trees produce apparently triggers a spike in our body's natural killer (NK) cells and anti-cancer proteins, enhancing our ability to fight off infections. I don't really care why it works, I just keep doing it! 

Green gold

There is a definite transition to autumn going on. The trees are starting to get that attractive green-gold mixture in their foliage. I really like the effect when you just glimpse the gold through curtains of green, 

or when one bright coppery branch sweeps across a green background.

The River Wharfe was fringed by golden edges on its banks. 

It's a good time of year for fungi. I thought the bracket fungus above, on a rotting log, was rather beautiful, though I have no idea which specific type it is.

Plants are dying back too. I think these (below) are butterbur, which start with weird pink flower spikes and then develop these enormous leaves that shrivel into cup shapes in autumn. Fascinating plants. I think the name came about because the leaves were used at one time to wrap butter to keep it cool. 

The sun is getting lower in the sky too, shining its rays through the trees (and shining into my eyes on the drive home!)

Gently flows the river

Last Monday morning, my plan was to spend much of the day catching up on household chores, neglected because I've been out and about a lot. But... it was such a beautiful day that it seemed criminal to stay indoors. The joy of retirement is that, within reason, you can do exactly as you like. So Plan A was ditched and Plan B followed... a drive to Bolton Abbey and a walk through the early autumnal woods. 

We've had some rain but not really a great deal. The River Wharfe was flowing gently and its surface was mirror-like. 

The Strid Gorge was slightly fuller than last time I visited about a month ago, but by no means as full as it sometimes gets. It's astonishing that the wide and mighty river narrows here to just a couple of meters across as it churns through the rocks. 

It was a blissful walk - my soul was singing - and I made the most of every minute. It's such a privilege to be within easy striking distance of all these beautiful places. I saw this quote (below) on someone else's blog (Barbara?) and thought it was wonderful. I am so deeply grateful for my life and circumstances. 

Petrichor

At last, we had some overnight rain on Monday - proper rain, not just a few spots. (And more since then too.)  It's been a good two months since we had any meaningful precipitation and our river levels are very low. I happened to wake relatively early (for me) on Tuesday so I decided I'd go to Bolton Abbey for a walk in the woods. The estate gets busy in the school holidays so I tend not to visit but I knew I could be there before most of the crowds and, indeed, there were only about 30 cars in the riverside car park when I arrived. (Many more by the time I left!) 

It was delicious to walk in the cool, moist atmosphere, breathing in the pleasant, earthy scent of rain on dry ground. It was overcast and somehow mysterious in the forest, as though nothing could quite work out what was happening. What is this dampness?  

There are some very big trees down and tree branches scattered throughout the woods. I suspect that will continue as the trees have been so stressed this year and it weakens them. How the mighty are fallen... 

It's also quite plain that autumn is arriving early, with leaves already turning colour. 

Occasionally I came across a leaf that had fallen quite artistically, a bright jewel against the damp earth. 

The River Wharfe, normally rushing through the Strid Gorge, was just a gentle trickle, hardly moving. The low water level revealed water-worn rocks that you don't normally see, and a tantalising glimpse into the abyss of this famous stretch of the river, a narrow strait reputedly up to 9m (30 ft) deep and only 2m (6.5 ft) wide, with dangerous currents and hidden underwater caves. It's as though the river turns itself sideways to squeeze through the narrow fissure in the rocks. The falls a little upstream always create a line of foam, like a skein of lace in the middle of the river. 

I often spot peculiar creatures in the fallen branches; a couple of bird-like, beaky things here:  

Finally, a view I don't often take - but it does show the end of the big riverside car park, the Cavendish Pavilion (where I treated myself to a cappuccino and my favourite cherry Bakewell tart) and the wooden bridge that crosses the river at this point. 

Skipton Castle Woods

Behind Skipton Castle, the old Springs Branch Canal is now blocked by a landslip but you can still walk that way. It's a pleasant circular walk through Skipton Castle Woods, once a medieval hunting ground, then a source of water power for the town's corn and textile mills and now a nature reserve. The canal ends and the path runs alongside Eller Beck and the various sluices that were made to channel the water to the mill wheels. 

There was a smattering of bluebells but not as many as I expected. Most of the slopes were covered in wild garlic. 

Part way round the trail, you arrive at the Round Dam, another sign of the industrialisation of the waterways in the area. It's now quite a peaceful spot and I sat and ate my lunch there, enjoying the tranquillity. 

At the far end of the dam, a heron was trying to find his lunch too.

Northcliffe blues

Can you bear to see more bluebells? These are in our local Northcliffe Park.

Bluebells and wild garlic together always look lovely: white stars in the foreground and a blue haze in the distance. 

The green walkway in the picture below is the bridge that golfers use to get from the Northcliffe clubhouse to the greens, across the narrow valley. 

My walk was somewhat spoiled by three large dogs, a golden retriever, a black labrador and some other large breed, that were cavorting around in the woods. The lab charged at me and jumped up, nearly knocking me over and scraping his claws down my thigh. It rather frightened me and I dread to think what would have happened if it had rushed at a child. Their owners?... Nowhere to be seen. Grr. 

On my way home the sky turned dark as clouds came over and, just after I came inside, there was a sharp, squally shower. I was glad to miss that! So it turned out to be a walk full of blues, in more ways than one. 

Babes and bluebells

It was 14 April and I had not realised that the Leeds schools had another week of the Easter Holidays left. (Bradford's schools had already returned.) It meant there were more children around Bolton Abbey than I had expected (which means photography can be more difficult) but the bonus was that there was a coffee van parked at the Strid, only there at holiday times. It was very pleasant to sit sipping a cappucino, overlooking the water. I snapped the little group of youngsters from the back, so I don't think that's violating any principles. I thought they looked very sweet in their wellies. 

I chose the top path from the Cavendish Pavilion to the Strid, which took me right through the middle of the bluebell woods. They were just beginning to unfurl, not yet at their peak but still leaving a flush of blue across the woodland floor, as though someone had dashed a brush of watercolour paint across. There were plenty of wild garlic leaves too, with a few of their white flowers starting to poke through.

Square eyes

My mother used to warn/threaten us, as children, that we'd 'get square eyes' from watching too much television. (Worries about 'screen time' have been with us for decades!) Nowadays, I sometimes decide I'll take my 'square eyes' on a walk, just for a change. It's funny how imposing a restriction, like setting my camera to a different ratio, can sometimes make me more creative, or at least free me up to look at things a little differently. 

I made the most of a bright, dry morning with a trip to Bolton Abbey - and timed it perfectly. The rain started just as I drove away from the car park to come home! It was all very beautiful, quite possibly my favourite time of year when the new leaves are bathing the trees in varying shades of soft green and amber, interspersed with a few bursts of blossom.  

I just blissed out and really enjoyed finding square compositions. When I got home and uploaded the photos, I wasn't sure that my bliss in the moment had translated into all that many wonderful images, but it doesn't really matter. I had fun. 

Bingley St Ives

As we edge closer to spring, I'm enjoying the brief sunny interludes between the frequent showers. One day I drove up to the country park at Bingley St Ives and had a walk through the lower woodland. From the entrance drive, there are far reaching views up the valley to Harden and beyond. 

The estate is pleasant, though not my favourite woodland to explore. It's all rather messy, somehow, and a lot of trees have been felled because of disease, so there are areas where it's quite sparse. At this time of year it's muddy too. There are numerous little streams running down the hillside, and a few ponds where the water collects. Some of the original estate cottages survive and are still used. Those in my photo above are, I believe, Cuckoo's Nest Cottages. 

I was surprised to spot a wooden monk lurking in the undergrowth! It seemed rather eerie. Apparently in the Middle Ages the land was owned and farmed by monks from Rievaulx Abbey. Over the years all sorts of ghostly encounters have been reported (see HERE) so that I wouldn't be keen to be up there on my own at dusk. 

St Ives Mansion was originally built in 1616, and became the home of the Ferrand family, whose descendants lived there until 1929, when the estate was sold to Bingley Urban District Council. I think the present building mostly dates to the 19th century. It became a residential care home for young people with disabilities, and was then reputedly sold to become apartments, which seems never to have happened. It's a listed building but sadly in great need of repair, having been subject to vandalism and arson attacks. I just read in the local press that the owners are now intending to convert it back into a care home. They need to get on with it! 

I'm told it still has some Jacobean style features inside. On the outside wall there's a plaque, presumably a coat of arms - perhaps for the Ferrand family. Although the writing seems to be in English not Latin, I can't make out what it says at all.