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This was very close to the summit of the fell, but the shot below was more typical of what we encountered on the way up. I was astonished to see some of the more rugged types tackling this trail on mountain bikes, with mixed success.
Some might wonder, what is a fell? According to Webster's, a fell is "a high barren field or moor" (moor being "an expanse of open rolling infertile land", again credit to Webster's). I took to saying that it's a large barren hill, not quite a mountain.
The thought occurred to me, "Hey, why not nestle the sheep right into the notch carved out of the stone wall." They're the ones who made it, right?
Focus shifted in the shot below:
This guy
caught Andrew's eye and I jumped on the chance to snap a few. He
looks as though he's peacefully contemplating life while looking out
over the valley below...
Lots of stone walls in various configurations in the coming posts. They give such a rustic, earthy feel to a place which makes it seem as though you've stepped back in time.
Not all were done like this, but one style evidently was to point the top ridge of rocks straight up. Suppose this might discourage some of the sheep-jumping mentioned in yesterday's post...
One of the things I was hoping to capture was the network of stone walls that crisscross the region. Because they are made of rock, which conveys permanence, it's easy to assume that they've been here for a very long time. That's why we were surprised to learn that the lifespan of these walls is no more than about 40 years if they're not diligently maintained...due mostly because there is no mortar holding the rocks together. Also it turns out that they don't contain sheep very well; the broken-down parts are where they hop or climb over, knocking some of the rocks out of place as they cross.
Closer shot of the house below, where you can see the gaps a little better (click to enlarge), as well as one wall that has almost completed tumbled down over time:
As stated in the introduction to this series, this part of England is all about walking, and we came here so that we could take some of the walks together and take lots of pictures. The family bought me a good pair of walking sticks before the trip, and after arriving we went to one of the many walking stores (yes, retail outlets geared specifically to the walking industry) to buy a good pair of walking shoes.
And Andrew was right...the vistas in this peaceful, rural part of the country are tremendous, and every time you turn your head there's something else to take a picture of. And - as happened in Alaska - we were blessed with awesome weather most days, even when it was forecast to be miserable.
This waterfall was to our left at the beginning of the trail. I do lots of bracketing for these kinds of shots, and this one was handheld at a tenth of a second, with the darkest exposure being chosen. Had to be careful, though; with only 15% of battery life rationed for the day I couldn't afford to get too carried away.
Before embarking on this walk the locals told us that
this was one of the better trails because of the variety, and they were
sure right, as we experienced waterfalls, roadways through the woods
and out in the open, pathways through the woods and out in the open, a
steep climb up a large fell, over the felltop, and a gentler path back
down to Ambleside through a picturesque little village (Troutbeck). Just right for our purposes with the time that we had.
So that's it for what turned out to be a highlight of the trip for me. Time was getting by, so very soon after this was captured we headed to Andrew's highlight of the trip...6:00 reservations at the Michelin-starred Black Swan in Oldstead, the 2017 Best Restaurant in the World! (according to Trip Advisor)
Similar to the first Byland Abbey pic posted, but with rainbow in place after we discovered it was there. By this time clouds had obscured the sun so it wasn't full-on, which made the colors a little softer...even more natural if you will. As in other pics featuring the rainbow, the colors were enhanced after it was assigned a layer of its own.
Probably one of my favorites of the Lone Tower; rudimentary card below:
Though the houses in the background probably are a couple of hundred years old, they are very new in comparison to the gargantuan ruins next door. Very peaceful setting.
View to the left below:
Quite a bit of time was required to remove the splotches of white lichen on the stonework on some of these photos; original below before they were cloned out:
These are the steps that Andrew was standing on in yesterday's post. There's something about steps and stairs, particularly ones made of stone, that humanizes a place like this. More than with any other structure, you can be sure that walking on them places your footsteps exactly where thousands of others have trod over the centuries while doing their daily business. Got the same feeling about the steps leading up to a house in this post from Central America.
Tower complete with rainbow to the right, and Andrew on the steps.
The rainbow actually goes through the doorway some, but it's a little hard to distinguish. Black and white of same below:
I've been mentioning the angry clouds in the background. Didn't have to walk too far to the right to get blue sky instead. Note the fence in place, I guess to keep people from going into those doorways and getting knocked on the head by a rock. Nothing in place on the other side, however, or next to the lone tower...
Next to the front facade, this tower fascinated me most, and it was captured from many angles. Interesting to see the doorways and imagine the quiet, concentrated activity of the monks coming in and out of them on their various tasks. Fortunately angry sky and sunset stayed in place almost the whole time we were there.
And if this wasn't enough, just as we were about to head back to the car, out pops a RAINBOW!! It wasn't that distinct but I managed in Photoshop to intensify the colors a little, which appear in the pic below as well as a few more that will be posted later:
Andrew and I did a lot of driving around in the rural north of England, me behind the wheel on the right and he on the left-hand side as the passenger. This was the most unusual aspect of this trip - and the one I was most worried about - this new configuration and driving on the left side of the road instead of the way the Lord intended everyone to drive. Thank goodness Andrew was with me, giving patient and most-times gentle guidance whenever I wondered too close to the left curb, subconsciously closing the distance I was used to between me and the left side of the road. At first it was terrifying, but after about three days I got the hang of it because, after all, there was no choice! Did damage the front bumper once, however, as I ended up on the sidewalk and overrode some decorative rocks correcting myself back onto the road (thank goodness for the insurance we chose to add to the rental car). And there was also the time I missed a house by one inch while trying to cut through a neighborhood. I'm convinced that it wasn't only Andrew that was looking after us.
It was on the second leg of our trip, near Thirsk, when we were carefully weaving our way down country lanes to make a reservation at the Black Swan restaurant in Oldstead, in the middle of nowhere, when suddenly THIS loomed into the windshield after we rounded a bend. My gosh, what in the world is this and what is it doing here? I pulled over in a heartbeat and dug out the Bigger Cahoona from the back seat. Not a soul was on the road, or on the property either where this magnificent thing stood, so we had the place to ourselves.
There was a sign there, and a small museum nearby, and it turns out we had stumbled upon the Byland Abbey. We knew nothing about abbeys or the abbey system, but learned from the sign that it was built in the year 1170 and was designed to house up to 200 monks and 100 laymen. I did research upon returning from vacation and learned further that King Henry VIII outlawed the abbey system when he perched himself as head of the Church of England, so this among dozens of other abbeys dotted all over the countryside were abandoned by 1535. The place was then gutted by looters, and later, when there was nothing else to pillage, the residents of the area took to tearing the very walls down to use the stones for their houses. A fascinating history can be found here, along with some good pictures and a depiction of what it probably looked like when functioning as a monastery. In the article it is said to be "one of the shining lights of northern monasticism" of its day, and it's easy to see why.
But for the present, Andrew and I had the place to ourselves and had a field day. For beginners, the setting sun on its face with the dark, angry clouds behind could not have been more ideal. And from there we just ran all over the place, exploring, climbing (as much as my old knees would allow), and snapping away with a very happy camera. The combo of the old crumbling structure, about which we knew nothing and didn't expect to see, along with a total lack of people, plus the setting sun that shone through to illuminate the many facades, kept the Bigger Cahoona very busy indeed.
The picture below takes in most of the property, which might give perspective in the shots that will be posted in the coming days:
If you read the post dated July 14, 2017 on this blog, you know what a James Herriot fan I've been through adulthood. The man was just amazing, and his back story as interesting as his books. I've read the Creatures Great and Small series through three times, and ever since the first have wanted to visit the country where he lived, practiced, and described so vividly and fondly...a bucket list item, if you will.
The chance finally came. About two years ago my son Andrew went with some friends to the Lake District National Park in the UK. After returning he gushed on and on about how beautiful the place was, and that I need to go there to take some pictures. Just my kind of place, he said - it's picturesque all around and the primary pastime is walking the hundreds of trails in the area. Didn't take long for the idea to strike that, "Hey, why don't we go together and you can show me around?" Meanwhile, Andrew became engaged to be married in the spring, providing the catalyst to do it sooner rather than later. This was it - time to make plans!
Discovering that the Lake District is an easy drive from where Herriot lived and worked made it a no-brainer to include a little time there. We settled on Windermere in the Lake District for the first four nights, two nights in Kirbymoorside near Thirsk, and the last in Manchester before flying from there back to Houston. But the upcoming posts will not appear in that order, for reasons that will become obvious tomorrow.
Proper planning was done to make this a great trip, with the exception of one thing - I ended up with only ONE CHARGED BATTERY for the Bigger Cahoona, and no charger to rejuvenate it once depleted. Fortunately it was at 100%, but I had to ration its use on a per-day basis, shooting, say, 10% on a given day but 15% the next because of where we were going to be. The system worked fine, yielding 1,670 captures more/less evenly spread through the trip, with 7% left at the end of our stay in the UK. But I wasn't worked up about it either way, photography being the secondary - not the primary - purpose of the journey. Any keepers brought home were be pure gravy...
As an aside, this tea set was on display behind the sand art; suppose it played a part in the opening ceremony but am not sure. Didn't notice the pebbles until post-capture.
Alternative view below to cap off this series on the Mandala sand paintings:
Closer-up detail shown here, with wider shot below. Note the care taken to create near-perfect ridges, bringing the entire piece in relief for an embossed look. What incredible art...and to think that it is destroyed upon completion! Lesson here in the fragility and brevity of all of man's work here on earth.
If they wanted to change colors using the same Chak-pur there was a cleansing process before filling up with the new color, selected from what you see below. Note how they organized the same color by saturation levels for the yellows, greens, reds and blues in the middle:
Surprising variety for such a simple instrument and process...
The long, skinny tool that you see here is called a Chak-pur; the colored sand is poured into the other end with a funnel, then coaxed out in a fine line with vibrations created by the stick. Then a big dose of meditation is needed to get the thing done...
Higher-up perspective here:
According to Wikipedia, "Mandala" is a Sanskrit word for "Circle", clearly seen here in this overall view. Due to the large number of people milling about, including the press, it was difficult to get shots like this. I even resorted to carrying a chair to a strategic location and standing on it while snapping away with the Bigger Cahoona, but was quickly told by nearby staff that it wasn't allowed.
This was the third day of the event so there are no pics of the opening ceremony, which would have been interesting, but at this point the work was almost complete which allowed us to view the overall design. Closer-in shot below:
Saw an advertisement for this event and decided to check it out with the Bigger Cahoona. Naturally what drew me in was the prospect of capturing the vivid color, as well as a sense of the dedication necessary to create art as a part of worship.
The pic above was the signage they had tacked onto the side of the Asia Society Texas Center building on Southmore here in Houston.
Unlike the last cruise that was featured in this blog, this time very few photos were saved from onboard the ship. All of the Princess ships are basically the same, and it was blasé to us this time. However, on the galley tour I thought this was interesting enough to post, as well as the photo below.
Thus ends the posting of our Alaska journey, hopefully the first in more to come. One comment the wife made was that it was too short - she was just beginning to relax about on Thursday, and they were already sending paperwork to get us ready to disembark in Seattle on Saturday! We decided that 14 days would be better the next time around, Lord willing.
Meantime, take it on our recommendation, and the recommendation of anyone else that's been on one of these - do it! Very much worth the experience.
This was actually captured as we were disembarking, but saved it until now to serve as a buffer between the Gardens and the one post from onboard the ship that will publish tomorrow. Being said, this ends the Victoria series from the Alaska Cruise.
