Marbled white dances and a pesky red admiral blocks the path in the Yorkshire Wolds.

23 June '23...Very hot with only a gentle breeze. 

Before traveling to Cottam Warren I wanted to investigate a nearby bridleway, a path which led to the head of Lambert Dale. As I passed through the special long handled stile, perhaps to assist horse riders, the distant sound of gunshot, 'pops' in staccato thuds the peace. I walk on, through tall, head height, grass, some finely seeded, some with heavy crumply heads, occasional umbrels vying with them, trying to reach the sky.

Red admirals try to block my path and flutter in front of me before settling on a leaf, wings prostrate absorbing the sun’s heat. Speckled Marble whites flutter along the chalky lower part of the walk. 

I progress, the path climbs steeply, passing through a tunnel of shade where a mysterious block of  mortared bricks ponds questions about how, why it got there. The narrow path is bordered by long grasses from either side which bend over to form an interfering, natural archway, necessitating the need to Gulliver through. To the left of me a ripening field of pale straw coloured barley, with whiskered heads bent down in the heat. I approach the top of this short walk. The popping of guns  still can be heard from the distance. 

George is off his lead and is following my footsteps through this grassy path. The weather is warm, the sky is busy with varying shades of light blue grey. It’s a typically humid English summer day, making this short walk, hard work, I reach the top of the hill. I can see  Lambert Dale now, it is on my right, the valley opens up with contoured fields of barley touching the floral meadow grass on the valley flanks. I stop and stare at the scene, it will change all too soon. Then, turning round, I walk back and look across, to the distant Warren Dale with its lovely bright green, sunlit sides, occasional bushes smudging  the slopes. A white chalk path scar seems to dominate the view and runs from the Dale bottom to the ridge line. As I look, I see a buzzard circling. Again I glance at Warren Dale and see a vehicle, like an ant, it climbs the grassy hillside, and then disappears back down to the Dale bottom.....oh, now I see it again, it is climbing up the snaking track, I surmise that it has something to do with the shoot heard earlier. In fact as I look I see another vehicle in front of it. So yes, definitely two vehicles are now anting up the steep track to the top of Warren Dale. I continue walking and losing height as I get nearer to the road.

I stop and look across again and see another two vehicles approaching the top of Warrendale, where the track  disappears. I see the vehicles turn right at the top to ride along the ridge of Warren Dale. I am assuming they will turn off for Highfield Farm which is hidden by a distant copse ( just visible on the left ). A few minutes later, I look across and see three more vehicles climbing the steep chalky path, wow, a larger shooting party than I thought. Perhaps champagne bottles will be popping soon making me think about the connection with the shoot. 

Walking back my feet push overhanging grass aside as I follow George, who is trotting along. We pass some late flowering buttercups and some very very small, only 3 mm across, pink flowers growing close to the ground. As I cannot speak to my mobile Keble Martin, I will consult the book when back at the car. On the walk, on the edge of a barley feed I saw lots of black grass arching over with full seedheads, oh dear. Indeed, on the way here I saw a man walking in a field of wheat, I shouted across to him and he confirmed he was rogueing, demonstrated by holding up a handful  of freshly lifted black grass. Despite the grey weather, the sky is now beginning to show lots of blue and the sun, when it comes out, it’s very hot. I’ll be glad to get back to the car. 

At the car I give George a deep, cool drink. Standing alongside a hedge I can hear the English cicada. Not sure what it could be. Maybe a grasshopper chirping away. Goose grass, adorns the hedges, a froghopper hidden inside it’s protective cloud remains anonymous.

Then over to Cottam Warren Farm and a short detour to Bortree Dale. I had seen this a few days earlier and wanted to capture the scene with the Sledmere Monument visible on the skyline. As I painted a young man comes over with his energetic dog and explains how he is with Mortimers explaining some of the finer points of seed production. He knew Becca and understood the need to inspect the seed growing belts nearby. Seedsmen take a pride in their work which is reflected in the clean crops which are subsequently produced. He mentioned the enormous tonnage of seeds produced which made me ponder the ratios of seed needed to produce a field of a particular crop. Simplistically, I guess it is a function of seeds per stalk with allowances for other factors. Anyway, it is all so fascinating, like the fact that this year the conditions have been ideal for barley, so much so that some dormant seeds have germinated in wheat fields.

 

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My Yorkshire Sketchbook, limited edition with double page spreads which include notated sketches is now available from my online shop.A very short video of the book can be seen below, 

Short video here. 

Sketchbook book available here at my Online store.