A head for heights

Do you have a head for heights? I certainly don't, so my heart was in my mouth as I watched the tree surgeons at work opposite my house the other day. There were two men leaping about really high up in the trees, apparently as comfortable doing so as the squirrels that I see. They did, admittedly, have some kind of safety harness but it looked pretty flimsy, just one rope looped over a branch. The big ash trees must be almost 100 years old now and one has been shedding large branches of late. When they are in full leaf, they don't like the wind we've been having, especially coupled with the dry spring we had. I'd reported it and was gratified that they actually came to inspect and prune them, though they have left the large sycamore which overhangs exactly where I park my car! They must think that is safe for now.
After so many weeks of being at home inside a lot, it was rather fun to have something to watch from the window!

Folly!

It all started so well, with a pleasant amble down Beckfoot Lane to the packhorse bridge (HERE)
and on to the next little stone bridge over Harden Beck. There's an old mill here, originally driven - I assume - by water power from the beck. I don't know when it closed down but the buildings have been converted into several residential units.



Once over the narrow bridge, my walk took me across Shipley golf course (oddly named, since it is actually on the edge of Bingley). The right of way is marked by large white stones, but you have to be very careful not to get in the way of golfers and flying golf balls. Not being a golfer myself, I find it quite hard to tell which direction they are aiming in. So I walked quite fast across this bit!

Beyond the golf course, the view opens up along the Harden Valley, bounded on one side by the Bingley St Ives estate and on the other by Cottingley Woods. It's all very green and lush. I actually love this gentle little valley, quite peaceful nowadays. There are some old buildings, now very nice houses, nestled in hay and wildflower meadows.

Harden Grange Farm, which you can see in the distance below, is now a riding school and livery yard.

I took the path up into Ruin Bank Wood, climbing steeply up the valley side. I was hoping to find the old ruined folly hidden in the woods.

The woods are mostly larch trees, grown for timber. As I walked up to the main track it all became very muddy and difficult to negotiate, churned up by forestry vehicles.They must have huge thick tyres that had gouged out deep ruts. I came to a junction in the track and went straight on - wrong, as I then came to the other side of the wood. I retraced my steps and turned right, along the muddy track. It was hard going and not at all pretty. I find the straight trunks of pine trees rather forbidding compared to mixed woodlands like Hirst Woods.

Further on there was more evidence of forestry activities, with huge stacks of messy timber. Not the neat log piles you'd expect, these were smaller branches and looked more like waste. You'd think at least they could use it for chippings for mulch. Perhaps they do, eventually.

I never did find the folly! I obviously took a wrong turn somewhere. The track came out into Cottingley housing estate and, to be honest, it was a relief to be on firmer ground. I had then to search for the footpath down to the main road. It turned out to be steep and rocky and more like a river bed, though luckily not muddy here.

I was actually quite glad to get down to roads that I knew and eventually back to my car, on Beckfoot Lane. Not one of the nicest walks I've done...  Rather a folly, in fact. Ha!

Seeing the wood for the trees

'You can't see the wood for the trees' generally means you're too deeply involved in detail to appreciate the wider picture. This scene worked effectively in the opposite way for me. I was walking (my usual route!) along the canal bank through Hirst Woods. Maybe it was a trick of the light but something made me stop, arrested by the scene on the opposite bank. Curvaceous overhanging boughs framed a scene that seemed to invite my eye in, to wander through the slender saplings and gradually to notice the detail of the way the light played on leaves and lichen, moss, ivy and and wood bark. An unremarkable scene, in many ways, and yet a pleasing one to me. 

Casualty

At the end of May, one of the beautiful, mature trees alongside the drive leading to Saltaire's URC church succumbed to the drought. Its trunk suddenly sheered in half and a large portion of the tree fell across the drive, thankfully injuring no-one and damaging nothing, as far as I'm aware. (See HERE) Since then it has been tidied up and the trunk cut into logs. I believe experts have also assessed the others in the vicinity. 

From the moment the lockdown was ordered in the UK, the weather turned dry, sunny and warm. I dread to think how depressed we'd all have been if it had happened at the end of autumn and we'd had to survive in lockdown in the dark and cold of winter. As it was, at least we were mostly able to enjoy the sunshine. We had the sunniest and driest spring ever recorded, strangely coming after the wettest February on record. It is all, apparently, to do with the jet-stream. Climate change and the warming of the Arctic region is causing it to 'stall' for long periods, stuck either to the south of us - bringing wet Atlantic low pressure systems, or to the north, bringing high pressure in from the Continent. Such extremes are unprecedented and an alarming wake-up call. If only governments would listen... I fear we will see many worse casualties than this Saltaire tree in the future.  

Shinrin-yoku

The quiet sounds in the woods, the scent of trees and earth, the sunlight playing through the leaves, the fresh air; all these things are comforting and soothing. Being among trees can restore our mood, re-energise us and refresh us, easing our stresses. The Japanese have a name for it: shinrin-yoku, the practice of forest-bathing. I've been doing it a lot since we went into lockdown! I seem to have posted little else on my blog for weeks apart from walks through the woods and along the canal and river. Happily, I have quite a lot of choice about where to walk among trees. The photo above shows an ancient bridleway that snakes down the hillside from Gilstead to the bottom of Shipley Glen, skirting the old Milner Field estate. 

The tree in the picture below is near the top of Shipley Glen. Its lovely arching boughs make you feel really cocooned underneath it. The green leaves spread like a canopy almost down to the ground. 

I noticed this little stand of birches in Trench Meadows SSSI, the silvery trunks being picked up and echoed by the delicate white flowers scattered in the grass. I was too far away to see what the flowers actually were.

Urban trees

With more time than ever to 'stop and stare', I've been really noticing how the colours of spring trees are as varied as their autumn foliage. I'm lucky to live in an area with lots of woodland to explore but often it's the urban trees that stand out as singletons. Their different shapes and leaf colour can truly stop you in your tracks. Here's a few I've particularly noticed recently.

There are several pairings of maples in the locality, one with slightly variegated pistachio green leaves set against another whose colour reminds me of chocolate. These two are on the edge of the Wycliffe estate and there are some around Saltaire's Exhibition Building that are similar in colour.

I was excited to realise that this tall specimen is an elm. It has distinctive asymmetrical leaves and a forked trunk with deeply fissured bark. English elms all but died out in the last century due to Dutch Elm Disease. This one is either a slightly different variety or a very hardy old soul.

Behind St Paul's Church and bordering Crowgill Park there's a line of lovely mature trees - sycamore, I think, though I didn't walk up close to inspect them.

Along the Coach Road there are some pretty old hawthorns with their craggy bark and lovely blossom and a little further down there's a superb copper beech. Its spring leaves are a really wonderful shade of purpley-red.

To the woods

I'm fortunate to live very close to some beautiful ancient woodland. I walk through Hirst Woods most weeks, enjoying the peace that one finds among huge old trees. There are more woods along Shipley Glen that I sometimes explore but I rarely come to the area in these photos. This is the site of Milner Field, the huge Victorian mansion that Titus Salt Jnr had built in 1870, to the north-west of Saltaire. The broad path you can see in the photos is, in fact, the carriage drive, an extension of the Coach Road (see yesterday) that runs past the back of Salts Mill and alongside Roberts Park, across the river from Saltaire. It formed the driveway through the mansion's grounds, guarded by a lodge at either end.

Titus Salt Jnr died suddenly here, aged just 44, in 1887. The house was then occupied by a succession of other families, all of whom suffered family tragedies and early deaths, such that the house gathered a gruesome reputation and was eventually unsaleable. It stood empty from the 1930s and was demolished in the 1950s. Now, the site of the house is barely discernible, becoming overgrown with trees. The grounds are reputed to be haunted! Certainly, it can feel very isolated and eerie up there, which is why I rarely venture through the gates. However, on a beautiful spring day, I decided there was little to be feared and I quite enjoyed my walk, delighting in the fresh new leaves and the early bluebells.

Conkering the world

When they announced the Forest of Saltaire initiative (see HERE) I thought it sounded a worthwhile venture. However, I'm not a great one for gardening  - I can kill a 'living lettuce' on the way home from the shops - so I didn't end up doing anything at the time. Last autumn I picked up a couple of horse chestnut conkers, just to enjoy their shiny smoothness and rich colour. Then they got tossed into an empty container in my backyard, which happened to have a little soil in it, and I forgot about them. In the New Year, I noticed they'd softened and cracked and I remembered the forest idea. I really didn't hold out any great hopes but I planted them in some fresh potting compost. I'm really excited that they have sprouted and produced leaves. My friends are questioning whether they really are horse chestnuts!! I assure you they are, nothing illegal going on here, honest. Now all that remains is for me to attempt to keep them alive. I'm going to have to remember to water them. I might transplant them into a bigger pot soon. I also noticed a sycamore seedling has rooted in the front garden, so I think I'll have to rescue that too. I certainly don't want it establishing itself by the house wall but, rather than just toss it in the garden waste, I might try and nurture that too. We need more trees. 

Winter trees

Winter trees on Shipley Glen.

And one in Roberts Park that is closer to its spring incarnation...  A bit more sunshine and those magnolia buds will unfurl in all their glory:

Clearing up

Back to Roberts Park - and the huge tree that had fallen into the river (see HERE) has been (mostly) cleared up, with just a few twiggy branches remaining in the water. I suppose they'll get swept downstream in time. I happened to be walking past and I saw the men working, sawing the trunk into manageable pieces and shredding some of it into wood chips. They must somehow have pulled the tree back onto the land. What a job! It has all left rather a scar on the bank and in the woodland, but no doubt Mother Nature will step in to regenerate it all.

In other news...

On a chilly day just before Christmas, I had a brisk walk that took me through Roberts Park and along the river bank. I was surprised to see that a huge tree had come down into the river, just beyond the boathouse. It must have made a huge crash! I don't think it had been especially windy the night before but often the flow of the river starts to undercut the banks so that trees right on the edge are vulnerable. It is always sad to see such big old trees lose their lives. That's a considerable task for the River Trust people to remove the debris too. I would hope someone will plant a replacement. There is, I think, a plan to try and establish more trees locally. This shows we need it. We will gradually lose the ones we have as they get older and less viable. Unless there is an ongoing planting programme, our tree cover will diminish and it's even more important these days to soak up water and pollution and lock in carbon. Trees are so attractive and uplifting too. Plant a tree in 2020, if you can!

Holly

The holly bears a berry as red as any blood, 

and Mary bore sweet Jesus Christ for to do us sinners good

The traditional English folk carol, The Holly and The Ivy, is often sung around Christmas, and holly, with its cheery red berries, has been gathered for centuries to bring colour into our winter homes. At Christmas time, my grandmother always placed sprigs of holly above the oval mirror that hung above her mantelpiece. That same mirror now hangs in my bathroom. Somehow, I never think of putting holly in there!

If I wanted to, however, there is no shortage of the stuff locally. Sir Titus Salt loved it and planted it all over his estates. His salesmen and buyers brought back specimens from all over the world and there are believed to be at least 26 different cultivars growing in Roberts Park alone. I found this bush along the canalside near the lock. The leaves of this one are much less spiky than some holly leaves. 

Christmas pleasures in song

'O Christmas tree, O Christmas tree

Such pleasure do you bring me...'

There seem to be as many translations of the German song 'O Tannenbaum' as there are Christmas trees in Shipley. Whatever words you choose, it seems only right that they have a song celebrating their beauty. Some of the loveliest trees are to be found inside Salts Mill. The height of the vast rooms allows them to use substantial trees and the lack of wind and weather means they can decorate them far more lavishly than those in our town squares. I always get pleasure from visiting Salts Mill anyway, at any time of year, and count myself very fortunate that it's only five minutes' walk away. I could spend hours in the bookshop (and often do!). At this time of year, particularly, I like to buy a few books there. You can get them cheaper online but I know if we don't support the bookshop, it wouldn't be able to sustain itself. The pleasure of browsing would cease and that would be a tragedy. I'm hoping the recipients of my gifts enjoy them as much as I enjoyed choosing them.

The other pleasure in song happened last night when the Hall Royd Brass Band played carols around the village. It was enjoyable to listen to, hard to photograph (dark, movement, too many people!) and by the end I couldn't feel my hands or feet, it felt so chilly in the night air. But I'm in a proper Christmassy mood now!

Saltaire lights up

The Saltaire Christmas lights were switched on at the beginning of December but I wasn't able to go to the event and have only recently found time to go out after dark to see them. There aren't many; just a tree in front of the Victoria Hall and some small trees on the shops up on Gordon Terrace. Quite tasteful though. We don't like too much bling around here! The floodlights are always lit at night, to show off the wonderful architecture and our four lions. 'Peace' looks very peaceful lying beside the Christmas tree. The tree must be 15 feet high but it seems dwarfed by the huge bulk of the Hall. 

Carols at Costa

It was the day before the General Election and I was feeling really down and despondent. I needed to get myself into a more Christmassy and generous spirited mood. Shipley Christians Together were advertising 'Carols at Costa' in Shipley, an event in the local coffee shop to raise money for Christian Aid, so I thought I'd pop down and join in. I met up with some friends there and we had a good time singing carols and joining in the general merriment. There was a fiendish quiz, to try and work out the names of some well-known carols! Music was provided by local musician and legend, John Froud, and his daughter. We sang familiar carols and some Christmas songs, including a local version of 'On the first day of Christmas':

'On the first day of Christmas, my true love gave to me: a fat rascal and a cup of tea; 
On the second day of Christmas my true love gave to me: two flat caps and a fat rascal and a cup of tea; 
On the third day of Christmas my true love gave to me: three Brontë sisters, two flat caps and a fat rascal and a cup of tea'

and so on, in the same Yorkshire vein! (For the non-Yorkshire folk, a fat rascal is the name of a sweet fruit scone that is a local speciality, especially those made by the famous Betty's Tea Rooms.)

Walking through Shipley market place to get to Costa, I stopped to take a phone snap of the Christmas tree. It has flashing lights, so that is hard to convey in a static shot. It looks, in reality, a little brighter and more colourful than it appears here. It's spoiled every year by the railings around it!

Christmas is coming

Christmas is coming! Everywhere is starting to sparkle, with lights in our towns, lots of festivals and markets. I must admit I can get a bit 'Bah, humbug' about it on occasion, when I focus on how consumerist it has become. I do, however, try to get into the spirit of it, so when friends suggested we visited a Christmas Tree Festival, I decided to go with them. It was held in the church of St James, Thornton. There were 49 trees, each one decorated by a local group, organisation or charity. Each had a donation bucket for the relevant cause, so it is a way of raising money for good - a worthy aim at this season.

It proved to be quite tricky to photograph but I did my best, so here is a selection of shots to give a flavour of some of the innovative themes.

I couldn't decide whether I liked the football club gingerbread men best or the rather cute little cricketers, representing Thornton Cricket Club.