Around the lake

I hopped over to Harewood House last week on a very dank and drizzly day. Despite the weather, a walk around the perimeter of the lake proved to be quite pleasant. (It helps that there is a tea kiosk at the far side!) Some autumn leaves were still hanging on, despite recent storms, though the water in the lake was sludgy beige from the rain. It was all quite scenic. That sort of weather does add a certain misty beauty to the landscape. The grounds were designed by Lancelot 'Capability' Brown in the 1700s and have all the features that are characteristic of his English country house style: a sweeping landscape with views of trees and water. 

Friends, Romans, countrymen

I popped into Ilkley's Manor House Museum recently to see an exhibition on local wildlife by one of our camera club members. Whilst there, I had a look at some of the other exhibits. Ilkley has its origins as a Roman town. The remains of a Roman fort, dating back to 79AD, have been found where the Manor House now stands. It may have been Olicana or may have been called Verbeia, after the goddess of the River Wharfe. The Manor House Museum holds several Roman artefacts including gravestones and an altar dedicated to Verbeia. 

There is a mannequin dressed as a 'Roman soldier' - and I was amused to see the little squirrel hiding in his tunic, part of a trail of the tiny creatures for children to find around the museum. 

I was rather blown away by the Roman tombstone (below) that was unearthed on the centre of Ilkley during some excavations. Thought to date back to 240AD, it appears to show a family: man, woman and child. 

Turbulence

The Aire was as full as it could be without actually flooding after Storm Debi, our fourth named storm in a few weeks. Honestly, it feels as though it has been raining almost constantly since mid-July, save for the odd sunny day here and there. The newly-laid riverside path was inundated in a few places so my walk was a bit of a paddle in parts. The water has a lot of power when it is like this, and I'd be worried if I lived in one of those riverside properties as there is no sign of a let-up in the rain and there is flooding up in the Dales. Along with the high water, there were a few trees down in the woods. The wind has been gale force, although it was strangely calm by the time I went out. I had to limbo nimbly under some branches blocking the path - not easy when I had a good many layers on, which made it harder to bend - though it actually wasn't as cold as I'd expected due to the lack of wind. Bin collection day tomorrow (as I write this) so let's hope the wind stays away or everywhere will be littered

Saltaire's almshouses

There was lovely light on some of the almshouses as I walked past the other day. The open area around which they cluster - Alexandra Square - has been improved by the felling of several very large trees that used to take all the light. There was a lot of fuss when the trees were removed but they weren't Victorian additions, having been planted some time after the houses were built in 1868. Some smaller trees have now been planted instead. 

A few times when I've walked down this way, there has been an artist sitting and painting roughly this view. I've been tempted to stop and take a photo but didn't want to intrude - and he was wearing headphones, either to cut out the traffic noise or to listen to conducive music as he worked. I might have startled him if I'd peeped over his shoulder. Imagine if I'd caused him to jump and paint a big streak across the canvas!

Arty autumn

Wandering the woodland at Thorp Perrow brought glimpses of bright colour through the trees and occasional hits of really vibrant scarlet. 

In one spot, where neighbouring acers, one yellow, one red, had shed their leaves, the resulting mix of colours looked like a length of fabric or fine carpet. 

Elsewhere there were cascades of leaves that looked like they'd been dipped in paint. 

This low-hanging branch with fiery red leaves caught my eye, glowing against its backdrop of darker, fallen leaves.

Autumn at Thorp Perrow

Just like photos of bluebells in the spring, I can get a bit carried away in an autumn woodland. I probably took a few too many photos as I was wandering through the arboretum at Thorp Perrow. Never mind, sit back and enjoy them, without many words to distract:

Painterly

I took lots of photos at Thorp Perrow Arboretum on a recent visit. The autumn colours are glorious there, though I was a few days too late to catch them at their peak. I was pleased with these two images. The first has a softly impressionistic feel and I love the 'warm versus cool' colours in the second one. 

Silsden saunter

It's that time of year again when I trot off to the garage in Silsden to have my car's summer tyres exchanged for the winter ones. I probably wouldn't bother as usually I avoid driving in ice and snow but, with my daughter and family living over the hill in Calderdale, I'm always afraid I might get caught out. Up on the bleak moorland road that separates us, it can be foggy, snowy or icy even if the weather is fairly pleasant in the valleys. 

I had an hour or so to wait whilst the mechanics got to work and, as it was bright and sunny even though cold, I had a short wander around the town. I was pleased to discover one of those small local hardware stores that sells virtually everything. You can usually buy, say, just two screws if that's what you need, rather than a whole plastic-wrapped pack of twenty such as you'd get in a DIY superstore. Not that I needed anything (though I'm sure once I've moved house I'll be frequenting such shops more often as I get to grips with what needs doing). 

I detoured to explore the churchyard of the parish church of St James, which provides a little green oasis in the centre of town. 

More fallen leaves

Autumn seems not to have lasted long this year. The colour only really began to show a week or two ago and now many of the leaves have fallen. Some go straight to mush; others, like these cherry leaves (I think) glow, where they have fallen, like a pile of rubies. I sometimes wonder what people think when they see me crouched down on the pavement having a close look. I hope they are simply impressed that I can get up again! 

The fallen

Not poppies but fallen maple leaves, they reminded me of the red petals that are released to cascade down over the massed personnel of the Armed Services at the annual Festival of Remembrance in the Albert Hall in London. The 11th hour of the 11th day of the 11th month is traditionally when we stop to remember those who gave their lives in the two World Wars and subsequent conflicts. This year I am remembering also those who are currently living in abject and terrifying conditions in the Ukraine, Gaza and other places and those in Israel mourning or worried about missing family members. There is no place for the hatred we see from those masterminding these terrible conflicts, nor the mindless destruction from their bombs and other weapons; no place for the power-plays that allow these deluded men to take control; no place for the lies and gaslighting that allow them free rein for their evil. We will remember them.... 

Facing the future

Sometimes when I'm having my habitual 'walk for health' (both mental and physical) around the local canal/river circuit, I sit for a while on one of the benches that Hirst Wood Regeneration Group (HWRG) has so thoughtfully provided. I call it the 'Here We Rest Gladly' bench. It overlooks this willow tree on the river bank, which some while ago lost much of its height to a storm or maybe just old age. I was delighted to notice how it is regrowing from its trunk, as willow does. If I was a tree, I would want to be a willow, graceful and pliant, bending with the winds of life and yet strongly rooted and resilient.   

Somehow connected to that… Over the course of this last year I have been feeling motivated to sort through all my cupboards full of stuff, giving much away to charity shops. (I've been in my current house for 25 years. It has a lot of cupboards, consequently a lot of accumulated 'stuff'.) A gradual rather than reckless endeavour, I've had a sense of joy and freedom in doing so. As I've been sorting through things, I realised I was 'loosening the soil', going through a process of preparation for one day moving house to a smaller place that is more future-proof for me. At first I thought this would be a few years into the future. I have felt very peaceful about it and yet increasingly resolute. It's been less a decision, more a 'knowing'. After a few months, I found myself vaguely looking around at apartments for sale, and quite quickly realised that there were only two such developments that I really felt drawn to, both very local. A property came up in both of them at different times earlier this year and each time I started to think about it but then each time, for different reasons, making an offer to buy was not possible. Then, in August, a flat came up in one of them that felt 'just right'. I made an offer for it, which has been accepted. I put my house up for sale and received an offer within a week. Now I am just waiting to see if this is going to work out for me. Everything seems to take a very long time. (In the UK, the way the home-buying system works means that right until the very end you cannot be sure that someone isn't going to pull out and collapse the chain. It's stressful!) 

The new flat is only about half a mile from here; I’ll no longer be in Saltaire village itself but really not far away. This area has come to mean so much to me over the years. I have friends locally and it's conveniently close to shops, church and other amenities. Happily I will not be losing all that. The apartment does need quite a bit of work, mostly cosmetic, to bring it up to scratch but, once the actual moving process is over (which is always quite hard going) I will have plenty of time to spend decorating and organising and getting it how I want it. I'm quietly excited. I want to approach the next stage of life positively, with a spirit of moving forward, rather than waiting until I can no longer manage in this bigger-than-I-need old house with very steep stairs. If I stayed and then 'had to move' because of an accident or illness, I would feel very different. It feels right to make a positive choice to move now and hopefully enjoy some years of good health and mobility in a new home, knowing that if I do become less able it should still work for me. 

I'm sharing this now because at some point (all being well) I expect I will have to pause this blog, or at least post less frequently, in order to give my full attention to packing and moving. I will be back - and I will try to give fair warning if/when I stop. I always find it difficult when blog friends that I follow suddenly disappear. You can't help but feel concerned. But if I do stop, you will at least know why. For the time being, I am just trying to wait patiently for the conveyancing process to work its way through. 

'Go forth to meet the shadowy future without fear'    Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

'Map out your future but do it in pencil'    Jon Bon Jovi

'Destiny is no matter of chance. It is a matter of choice. It is not a thing to be waited for, it is a thing to be achieved.'   William Jennings Bryan  

'Actually, not everything that happens is a matter of choice - but you can choose how you respond to it.'   Me.  Haha. 

'Life ultimately means taking the responsibility to find the right answer to its problems and to fulfil the tasks which it constantly sets for each individual.'  Viktor E. Frankl

'Our greatest freedom is the freedom to choose our attitude.' Viktor E. Frankl

Barking mad

I'm fascinated just lately by the different types of tree bark. I find it hard to ID trees but I think these three images may be the bark of mature sweet chestnut trees: deeply fissured with ridges that spiral up around the trunk. (I may be wrong!)

As to the specimen below... it's a symmetree!  One of the monthly themes for my online photo group was 'symmetry' so I had a little play in Photoshop. I like how this technique makes the trunk look a bit like a totem pole. 

Rievaulx

I have to confess that I've never been to Rievaulx before, even though it is a renowned beauty spot. In North Yorkshire, some 60 miles from here, it's felt almost too far for a day trip and too near for a longer stay. However, a friend was driving so I happily went along. We'd been elsewhere for most of the day and just drove back via Rievalux so we didn't go into the site of the Abbey itself. You can get a good view, anyway, from the approach road. The village itself, with old stone cottages and red pantile roofs, is very attractive. 

On the photo above you can perhaps just see a small temple in the woodland above? That is Rievaulx Terrace, an 18th century garden now cared for by the National Trust. It was built to take advantage of the view over the ruined Abbey. That was actually where we were heading, but found it was closed. 

A horse added to the scenic view along the road. He was uninterested in us, patiently standing by the wall. The reason for that became clear as we left. Another horse walked up to the gate opposite, on the other side of the road. Two horsey friends obviously having a good chat to end the day... I bet it's a regular date! 

Helmsley

Helmsley is a small market town located at the mouth of Ryedale on the edge of the North York Moors National Park. It has ancient origins and gained its Borough Charter in 1191. The centre of the town has buildings arranged around the market square with evidence of burgage plots - long, narrow plots of land with a house, that were rented from the king or local lord. The town built its prosperity on wool production and weaving, and later on flax.  

It's an attractive place, a popular destination for tourists and motorcyclists (who ride the B1257 road from Stokesley, a popular biker route). More often than not the centre is packed with motorbikes and cars, with visitors enjoying the range of independent shops, galleries, pubs and cafés. Many of the buildings you see today date from the 17th century. 

Helmsley's Norman castle, now ruined, is the most significant of the medieval buildings that survive.

I just had a short walk around the town and looked in a few galleries. I rather liked the pink car I spotted, especially paired with the pink petunias in the flowertub. 

Nunnington's gardens

Nunnington Hall's gardens are also relatively modest for a country house but pleasing nonetheless. To the front there's a gravelled courtyard, with a walled garden and lawns around the side of the house. The gardens are cared for organically, and there is an orchard and a vegetable garden with an area for 'cutting flowers' which are used in displays in the house.  

There are plenty of seats dotted around and the lawned area to the south of the house had all sorts of games laid out - badminton and croquet were proving popular with visitors. 

I liked these pink flowers, which I thought were a type of agapanthus, though they are usually blue. I now think these are Nerine Bowdenii, an autumn flowering bulb. Pretty anyway.  

A metal horse sculpture looked quite convincing at a distance - though I prefer willow sculptures to these metal ones.  

Less convincing but actually more real... there was a peacock strutting about - minus tail feathers, though. I think they moult once the mating season is over. 

A comma butterfly had its wings well stretched out, perhaps trying to catch a few rays of weak sunshine on what was generally an overcast day. 

In the veg garden, the bearded gardener didn't look to be doing much but standing there. 😂

The sheltered walls were covered in vines, though the grapes looked quite small and still hard.