click photo to enlarge
Elsewhere in this blog I have posted photographs of Penyghent, my favourite among Yorkshire's "Three Peaks", a small group of mountains in the Pennine range that forms the central backbone of the north of England. Those photographs show the varying moods that time of day, weather and season can bestow on this whaleback that looms over the upper Ribble valley near Horton-in-Ribblesdale.
Today's photograph shows Penyghent in a benign mood, the afternoon June sunshine that falls on its slopes lessening the effect of the dark clouds above. Anyone wondering at the perversity of a person who would build a drystone wall running up the steep slope of the mountain's "nose" should know that such walls were usually a result of the legal enclosure of common land and were required to mark the boundary of the landowner's holding.
photograph and text © Tony Boughen
Photo Title: Penyghent Seen From Near Swarth Moor
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 47mm (94mm - 35mm equiv.) crop
F No: f6.3
Shutter Speed: 1/1250 sec
ISO:200
Exposure Compensation: -0.3 EV
Image Stabilisation: On
Showing posts with label drystone walls. Show all posts
Showing posts with label drystone walls. Show all posts
Monday, June 27, 2016
Sunday, October 07, 2012
Yorkshire Dales mist
click photo to enlarge
A few days in the Yorkshire Dales market town of Settle, the place where I was raised, held the prospect of not only seeing members of my family but also walking the hills and doing some photography. With that in mind I hoped for some calm weather with sun and cloud. However, I knew from long experience that Settle in October (or any other month!) frequently delivers rain. Being on the west side of England's main mountain range, receiving the full force of the moisture-laden prevailing south-westerlies how could it do otherwise? And, true to form, it rained. Often it was heavy and sustained; at other times heavy shower followed heavy shower with the briefest of interludes between. But, on one day it relented and a day of mainly sun and clouds was interrupted by only a single downpour. So we got a longish walk on "the tops" as the hills are known locally and I got some photographs.
In fact, the day we spent walking started with thick mist in the valley - a temperature inversion mist - and the summits above bathed in sunshine from a clear sky. The dramatic mist proved to be perfect for photography and produced some of my best shots, including today's. In fact, as we walked and snapped and talked and hauled ourselves up out of the Ribble valley onto the limestone and millstone grit heights it occurred to me that, as far as photography goes, the weather you get is often better than the weather you wish for. Perhaps that phrase will join my list of self-penned photographic aphorisms. It has so often been true for me that my best shots have been taken in weather that is "extreme" in one way or another, or is quite different from what is usually thought of as good photographic weather. I reflected further on this when we passed a bookshop in Settle. In the window were a few different volumes of photographs of the Yorkshire Dales. All had a cover that showed a well-known location photographed in sunshine with blue sky and white clouds. I took a few shots of that kind myself during our time in Settle, but the ones taken in the unanticipated and unwanted mist please me more.
The photograph above was taken near the start of our walk at a point when it looked like the mist would rapidly lift. In those circumstances an eye for any available images and rapid composition is needed. Here the two gates in the drystone walls, the short lane, and the trees offered the best possibilities.
photograph and text © Tony Boughen
Camera: Canon
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 28mm
F No: f7.1
Shutter Speed: 1/800
ISO: 100
Exposure Compensation: -0.33 EV
Image Stabilisation: On
A few days in the Yorkshire Dales market town of Settle, the place where I was raised, held the prospect of not only seeing members of my family but also walking the hills and doing some photography. With that in mind I hoped for some calm weather with sun and cloud. However, I knew from long experience that Settle in October (or any other month!) frequently delivers rain. Being on the west side of England's main mountain range, receiving the full force of the moisture-laden prevailing south-westerlies how could it do otherwise? And, true to form, it rained. Often it was heavy and sustained; at other times heavy shower followed heavy shower with the briefest of interludes between. But, on one day it relented and a day of mainly sun and clouds was interrupted by only a single downpour. So we got a longish walk on "the tops" as the hills are known locally and I got some photographs.
In fact, the day we spent walking started with thick mist in the valley - a temperature inversion mist - and the summits above bathed in sunshine from a clear sky. The dramatic mist proved to be perfect for photography and produced some of my best shots, including today's. In fact, as we walked and snapped and talked and hauled ourselves up out of the Ribble valley onto the limestone and millstone grit heights it occurred to me that, as far as photography goes, the weather you get is often better than the weather you wish for. Perhaps that phrase will join my list of self-penned photographic aphorisms. It has so often been true for me that my best shots have been taken in weather that is "extreme" in one way or another, or is quite different from what is usually thought of as good photographic weather. I reflected further on this when we passed a bookshop in Settle. In the window were a few different volumes of photographs of the Yorkshire Dales. All had a cover that showed a well-known location photographed in sunshine with blue sky and white clouds. I took a few shots of that kind myself during our time in Settle, but the ones taken in the unanticipated and unwanted mist please me more.
The photograph above was taken near the start of our walk at a point when it looked like the mist would rapidly lift. In those circumstances an eye for any available images and rapid composition is needed. Here the two gates in the drystone walls, the short lane, and the trees offered the best possibilities.
photograph and text © Tony Boughen
Camera: Canon
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 28mm
F No: f7.1
Shutter Speed: 1/800
ISO: 100
Exposure Compensation: -0.33 EV
Image Stabilisation: On
Labels:
autumn,
drystone walls,
landscape,
lane,
mist,
North Yorkshire,
photographic composition,
Ribble valley,
Settle,
weather
Friday, October 07, 2011
The upper Ribble valley
click photos to enlarge
The River Ribble is one of the major rivers of the United Kingdom, joint 19th in length at 75 miles (120km) long. It flows from its source at the confluence of the Gayle Beck and Cam Beck near Ribblehead, through North Yorkshire and Lancashire, to where it joins the Irish Sea between Lytham and Southport. The Ribble has interest and beauty all along its length. Growing up in the area shown in today's photographs I spent much of my time along its banks, and on my return visits I often photograph it, delighting in its varied moods and sights. When I lived on the Fylde Coast I frequently photographed the Ribble estuary at Lytham in a wider way and through its details.Looking at today's photographs you may well say, "I see the valley, but where's the river?" In the upper reaches the Ribble is usually tucked away, bounded by trees on its often steep banks. That is the case in both shots: in the smaller it is below the line of trees in the middle-ground, and in the main image its course can be followed from near the bottom right of the frame, past the field with lines of drying hay in the centre, and off to the left below the wooded cliffs.
I took the first photograph fairly early on a sunny late September day. The light was modelling the undulating land well, showing off the drystone walls, and giving the trees a solidity that will disappear with their leaves. The highest point of land is the distant Fountain's Fell, land once owned by the monks of Fountain's Abbey. Below and to the right is a large cliff face, all that remains of Craven Quarry, the place where I photographed the Hoffmann Kiln earlier this year. The smaller photograph was taken on an equally sunny day, but in the afternoon and from the other side of the valley. I took this one for the contrast between the unimproved fields in the foreground and the distant background that contrast in character and colour with the greener improved fields closer to the road, river and farm. This shot also shows off well the drystone walls made of the local limestone that are characteristic of the Craven area of Yorkshire.
photographs and text (c) T. Boughen
Main Photo
Camera: Canon
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 50mm
F No: f7.1
Shutter Speed: 1/200
ISO: 100
Exposure Compensation: -0.67 EV
Image Stabilisation: On
Monday, October 03, 2011
Yorkshire Dales barns
click photo to enlarge
A recent few days in the Yorkshire Dales re-acquainted me with some stone barns that I've known all my life. Some continue in use much as they always have, others have fallen further into a state of dilapidation, and some are in the process of being converted to new uses.Todays's photograph shows a modest barn near Settle called Far Thornber Barn. Most Dales barns that are out in the fields have names. Often these relate to the first owner, to the location or have a name whose origins are lost in the mists of time. Sometimes the last part of the name is "Laithe" rather than "Barn", a word that derives from the Old Norse (ON) word "hlatha" meaning barn. This reflects the influx from predominantly Ireland and Norway of Norse settlers in the years after 800 AD. In this area, a mile or so south of Settle, there is a cluster of barns that I know well. The oldest is Brigholme Barn near Giggleswick, by the River Ribble, which apparently dates from the seventeenth century. The last part of its name comes from the ON "holmr" meaning a dry, raised place in wet land - a suitable location for a barn - and the first may derive from either the Old English "brycg" or the ON "bryggja", both meaning bridge. In my childhood it was piled high with bales of hay. It's now surrounded by newer structures that serve modern farming better, but is still used, cared for and maintained with traditional methods (lime mortar etc) as befits a listed building.
A few hundred yards from the barn in the photograph is the oddly named Fish Copy Barn. A more "architectural" structure than many it has a "porch", carved stone decoration and a late nineteenth century date stone with the owner's initials. For many years it was roofed, and the upper part of the porch was notable for a pile of song thrush nests about six feet high, the work of successive generations of birds each building on the nest below. Now it stands forlorn, unwanted and roofless amid a patch of waste land. By the A65 road the cluster of Cleatop Barns (named after the nearby house and wood) are in the process of being transformed into offices, retail space and a restaurant: a sad end for these distinctive buildings.
I visited Settle in a period of unseasonally hot weather with clear blue skies - not ideal for walking on the limestone and millstone grit uplands or for photography. This shot, however, was taken on the first morning of my stay when some low cloud pierced by patches of sunlight made photography much easier.
photograph and text (c) T. Boughen
Camera: Canon
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 60mm
F No: f7.1
Shutter Speed: 1/160
ISO: 100
Exposure Compensation: -0.33 EV
Image Stabilisation: On
Labels:
barn,
calves,
cows,
drystone walls,
North Yorkshire,
pasture,
placenames,
Settle,
Yorkshire Dales
Sunday, September 13, 2009
Millstone Grit

The Yorkshire Dales are known for their limestone scenery and drystone walls. Places such as Malham, Ingleton and Sedbergh are visited by tourists keen to see the upland farms, caves, potholes, wild landscape and small villages of this picturesque area. The district known as Craven, which includes the market town of Settle, is visited for similar reasons. However, in this location geological faulting has produced a land that departs, in some areas, from the stereotypical Dales landscape.
Here the various lines of the Craven Faults have produced places where the ubiquitous Carboniferous Limestone meets the Millstone Grit that dominates the nearby Forest of Bowland. At these boundaries the light coloured limestone gives way to areas where the rock is darker, less obviously stratified, has fewer outcrops, and produces less scree. Close inspection of Millstone Grit shows that, like limestone, it was laid down under the sea: the stone is flecked by water-smoothed pebbles of white quartz. In the Millstone Grit areas the fields are less well-drained, feature more rushes, and are more acidic: pine trees, silver birch, oak and rhododendrons will grow where woodland has been encouraged. However, the drystone walls that are characteristic of the limestone areas are also found on Millstone Grit, though here more of the building material was produced by small-scale quarrying rather than scree scavenging and field clearing.
Today's photograph shows Lambert Lane above Settle. This route connects an area of Millstone Grit with one of Carboniferous Limestone. In my shot the nearer walls are constructed of the darker stone, but the most distant ones are limestone. At points between both kinds of rock are found in the walls. I took this photograph for the complexity of the walls at this juncture - the lane, the curved sheep fold and the two walls in the foreground that serve to channel sheep to a tunnel under the lane into an adjoining field. All these walls were built as a result of the Enclosure Acts, and were probably erected in the nineteenth (or possibly eighteenth) century. I felt my image would benefit from a figure to give a visual focus and some scale, so I stayed behind whilst my wife strode on ahead, and I waited for my moment to press the shutter.
photograph & text (c) T. Boughen
Camera: Olympus E510
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 90mm (180mm/35mm equiv.)
F No: f6.3
Shutter Speed: 1/160
ISO: 200
Exposure Compensation: 0 EV
Image Stabilisation: On
Labels:
Craven,
drystone walls,
Lambert Lane,
landscape,
millstone grit,
North Yorkshire,
Settle
Thursday, September 18, 2008
Drystone walls


click photos to enlarge
Earlier this year I installed a gate that necessitated taking down a short section of stone wall in order to position one of the gateposts. The wall was completely covered in ivy and had probably been erected in the 1950s. Quite why part of the perimeter of my property comprises a stone wall is a bit of a puzzle since there is no naturally outcropping stone within 15 miles or so, and stone walls are rarely found in this part of Lincolnshire. Perhaps it is down to the whim or fancy of a previous owner who happened upon a quantity of stone.However, the prospect of re-building the wall held no fears for me. I grew up the area of today's photographs, the Craven district of Yorkshire. I regularly walked its limestone hills, and, in my teens, learned something of how to build and repair a drystone wall of the type that characteristically form the field boundaries in this area. For a new section of wall, pegs and lines are placed to mark out the width and length, then the turf and soil are removed. Next, large base stones are laid to take the weight of the wall. Then each side is built, tapering inwards as it rises, with "fillings" of smaller stones placed in the centre space. One, or more often two, bands of "throughs" are laid one third and two thirds of the way up the wall. These are large stones that pass through the complete width of the wall and can project slightly at each side, holding it together and providing decorative bands. The course next to the topmost are the "coverhands", large flat stones that further tie the wall and prevent water ingress, with the final layer being the "topstones" that lay upright, at a slight angle, finishing the wall.
So, I imagine you are now picturing a perfect piece of drystone walling, with, as is traditional, no mortar used, looking the very picture of the waller's skill. Well, it's not quite like that! The stones were all quite small, and I had to break some of those to make them fit. I managed the base course using the biggest pieces, but didn't have enough of these for throughs or topstones, so the wall ended up a bit of a dog's dinner. I had to use some mortar at various points, and I encased all of it in wire mesh for the two-fold purpose of keeping it together, and encouraging the ivy to grow over it again to match the rest of the structure. It was good enough to get a few complimentary remarks from passers-by. However, if my aged drystone wall tutor of all those years ago could see it he'd be rolling his eyes and saying, "Ee, Tony lad, tha's niver goin' ter leave yon wall like that is ter? Tha'll ha ter tek the lot down and start agin! Come on, I'll gi thee a hand."
photograph & text (c) T. Boughen
Picture 1
Camera: Olympus E510
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 79mm (158mm/35mm equiv.)
F No: f7.1
Shutter Speed: 1/500
ISO: 100
Exposure Compensation: -0.3 EV
Image Stabilisation: On
Picture 2
Camera: Olympus E510
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 11mm (22mm/35mm equiv.)
F No: f10
Shutter Speed: 1/125
ISO: 100
Exposure Compensation: -0.7 EV
Image Stabilisation: On
Saturday, March 10, 2007
Walking and computers
There seems to be a general feeling that computers are good for democracy. Supporters of this viewpoint cite the Chinese government's restriction of its citizens' access to the internet as telling evidence of the proposition. And it's undoubtedly true that they give the individual in a society access to information, the means to manipulate and interpret it, and the power to communicate with the like-minded and our politicians.
However, computers can also be used in an anti-democratic way too. Most notably they allow governments, through the amassing and manipulating of data, to believe that they are in a better position to direct and organise society, than are local people and local politicians: they are a dangerous, centralising force. Take the current panic over childhood obesity. The government has collected data, is collecting more, and has come up with an answer - more physical activity in schools. Surely I'm not alone in thinking that if overweight children is the problem, then making them jump about in schools isn't the answer. But, computers in the government's education department know, to the minute (they think), how much physical activity school children undertake each week, and it's not enough! So the decree went out that all, throughout the country, should receive a minimum of two hours weekly during school time. Money was spent, organisers were appointed, and a grand strategy involving webs of high schools with feeder primaries were urged into action. It will have virtually no effect! Child obesity will only be solved by deep-seated life-style changes that include eating better and eating less, and walking and cycling more. This involves government leaning on food companies, planning for bikes and pedestrians, restricting cars, and yes, education, but in the widest sense. However, those strategies don't make politicians very popular. It's much easier to have a grand, trumpeted, school-based initiative and look like you're doing something!
One thing I've started to notice is that when I go walking the majority of the people I see doing it for pleasure are "older" people. If I go to the "honey-pot" locations like the Lake District, the balance shifts towards the younger end, and organised groups of children and young teens can be seen. But elsewhere it's mainly the "oldies" - like my wife and I - people for whom walking has been a lifelong way of getting about, and a source of enjoyment. The photograph shows my wife climbing a stile over a limestone wall on Gigglewick Scars in the Yorkshire Dales. I framed the shot so the wall acts as a line leading to the figure, or from the figure into the surroundings. The image was taken with a wide zoom lens at 44mm (35mm equivalent), with the camera set to Aperture Priority (f6.3 at 1/400 second), ISO 100, with -1.0EV.
However, computers can also be used in an anti-democratic way too. Most notably they allow governments, through the amassing and manipulating of data, to believe that they are in a better position to direct and organise society, than are local people and local politicians: they are a dangerous, centralising force. Take the current panic over childhood obesity. The government has collected data, is collecting more, and has come up with an answer - more physical activity in schools. Surely I'm not alone in thinking that if overweight children is the problem, then making them jump about in schools isn't the answer. But, computers in the government's education department know, to the minute (they think), how much physical activity school children undertake each week, and it's not enough! So the decree went out that all, throughout the country, should receive a minimum of two hours weekly during school time. Money was spent, organisers were appointed, and a grand strategy involving webs of high schools with feeder primaries were urged into action. It will have virtually no effect! Child obesity will only be solved by deep-seated life-style changes that include eating better and eating less, and walking and cycling more. This involves government leaning on food companies, planning for bikes and pedestrians, restricting cars, and yes, education, but in the widest sense. However, those strategies don't make politicians very popular. It's much easier to have a grand, trumpeted, school-based initiative and look like you're doing something!
One thing I've started to notice is that when I go walking the majority of the people I see doing it for pleasure are "older" people. If I go to the "honey-pot" locations like the Lake District, the balance shifts towards the younger end, and organised groups of children and young teens can be seen. But elsewhere it's mainly the "oldies" - like my wife and I - people for whom walking has been a lifelong way of getting about, and a source of enjoyment. The photograph shows my wife climbing a stile over a limestone wall on Gigglewick Scars in the Yorkshire Dales. I framed the shot so the wall acts as a line leading to the figure, or from the figure into the surroundings. The image was taken with a wide zoom lens at 44mm (35mm equivalent), with the camera set to Aperture Priority (f6.3 at 1/400 second), ISO 100, with -1.0EV.
photograph & text (c) T. Boughen
Labels:
computers,
drystone walls,
exercise,
Giggleswick,
walking,
Yorkshire Dales
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