Trees

The roots of trees penetrate the ground, anchoring the tree in place. Sometimes in windy conditions a tree can be shaped. Especially if there is a prevailing wind, like at the coast, where the wind blows mostly in one direction. Then the tree is sculpted and sometimes stunted, growing horizontal, pushed inwards towards the land. Like someone’s long hair blown back by the wind. Wild looking. The same can happen on high moors and mountains. Shaped and transformed.

Yorkshire Poster

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My hubby came home today with this print of North Eastern Railways ‘the Yorkshire Moors’…. Tranquil solitude. What is interesting is its a railway poster, with no railway visible!

Yorkshire is the largest county in England. It is home of the National Railway museum in York and is crossed by the North Yorkshire moors railway which runs through wooded hills and moors from Whitby on the coast to Pickering in the heart of the moors.

All of the East coast of the county is interesting. There are towns like Scarborough there. A lot of the coast is not very stable. There are cliffs where landslides occur and parts made of mud, called blue lias which is crumbling and full of fossils. You can find Whitby jet in it which is fossilised monkey puzzle trees which is jet black.

Whitby Abbey was a setting for the Dracula story and every year they have goth and steam punk festivals there.

Cat in fog

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A thick fog was hanging over the land, damp and white and still. We had been on a walk over bthe moors, my boots were sodden, my glasses had puddles in them. The tussock grass made for hard walking, trying to hop from tussock to tussock, often ending ankle deep in the murky water between the tussocks.

Now we had come to a stony path, but it wound up and down with no obvious way signs to show us where we were. Neither of us had a compass, and with this fog you could not tell East from West. The sun was invisible in the murk but it was getting colder and later. It must be five o’clock at least.

Suddenly we heard a mew, then another one. A cat appeared out of the billowing fog.

I leant down and stroked its ears, hello kitty I said, where’s home? Where did you come from?

The cat twitched it’s tail, and rubbed it’s head against my hand. It miaowed. Then it trotted off a little way, sat down and looked back towards us.

Shall we? he said, shall we follow it? What else can we do, we aren’t going to easily find our way back to the car.

By now the cat was standing and mewed again. Come on I said, before it disappears.

The cat started trotting off again, stopping and looking back every few yards. We followed, trying to keep it in sight through the mist and lowering light levels.

The cat left the path and jumped up onto a stile, dropping down the other side into the gloom. Well, we thought, let’s try.

Over a pasture and through a shallow stream, the cat jumping across stepping stones. Up a slight slope and into a patch of old oak trees.

Suddenly a wall loomed out of the thick fog. Spider webs wet with droplets of water.

A farm house, the cat walked to to the front door and scratched at it. Then it jumped up on a box and climbed in through an open window. We knocked on the front door and waited…..