Category Archives: Yorkshire
Fancy a ramble?
I know. No more blogging I said. Well, this is the exception that proves the rule. And it’s a long one. So, make a pot of tea or coffee, cut a slice of cake – whatever you fancy – and … Continue reading
A sparkler, for Emily
November the fifth. Monday. The big public firework displays have already blossomed and died. The weekend nights whizzing and banging. Pulsing with sights that vie with the northern lights for colour, but cannot touch them for magic. But today is … Continue reading
Say, ‘cheese’
I don’t. Say, ‘cheese.’ I ask people to say, ‘sausages,’ if I’m taking a posed picture. It makes them giggle, look at each other, appear more interesting. I prefer people pictures when they’re odd, casual, quirky. Catching an elusive moment. … Continue reading
Who was Sylvia?
The acrid scent of turmeric prickles tourist noses, where once sooty coal smoke settled in workers’ lungs. Grey clouds loom over lofty moors, threatening afternoon rain. People mill through the lunching hours, questing quinoa, gorging on gluten-free cakes. Hebden Bridge. … Continue reading
Supermodel, with Balls
It was raining. Hard. Long-unused umbrellas opened like reluctant flowers, showering hurrying heads with dust and desiccated spiders. My new friends had driven me into Haworth for the evening from the refurbished cotton mill where I was staying. Nestled between … Continue reading
Catching no worms
I’m not an early bird, I said, as I bid a fond farewell to three women, strangers to me before last Friday. They were planning an early walk, today, before leaving the place we’re all staying. It wasn’t just the … Continue reading