*Allendale, Northumberland:* A tiny Scots pine is growing between two blocks of masonry on the bridge itself
The parapet of Oakpool Bridge is set so high that I have to stretch up to see down to the river below. There the East Allen runs fast and brown with silt, eddying round the large boulders in its path. A white-chested dipper bobs up and down. The bird darts from rock to rock, then nips underwater before shaking its head and waggling its tail like a wet dog. Among the tangled trees that lean over the river are slender hazels, their tumbling catkins lighting the depths with pale yellow streaks. A female goosander slides with the current, her body low to the water.
This solid double-arched bridge spans the bottom of a gorge into which descend two steep roads: Appletree Bank and Colliery Lane. There are no signs of apple trees on the south side but the road is edged with drystone walls, their outlines blurred by hummocks of moss and polypody ferns. Fine branches of honeysuckle twist back on themselves where they have nothing to climb, their newly opened leaves sprinkled with rain.
To the north a wood of Scots pines stands above the gorge. Where their seed has fallen, a tiny pine is growing between two blocks of masonry on the bridge itself. In the outgrown hazel coppice below the pines a great tit is repeatedly calling, strident and urgent. Last year's woodruff stems lie flat on the ground, exuding a faint scent of new-mown hay. A single juniper grows among tree roots, the only one I've discovered on this north stretch of the East Allen river.
Colliery Lane is sunk deep between banks where ivy grows thickly up holly and ash trees. A stone-lined rill carries the water that would otherwise choose the steep road for its path. The stones, laid lengthways, fit together as neatly as bricks and water trickles down them, winter and summer. I wonder who laid this channel of stones, beautiful in their function, and how long ago.
Like so many of the layers written into this landscape, the makers are unnamed but their work remains. Reported by guardian.co.uk 11 hours ago.
The parapet of Oakpool Bridge is set so high that I have to stretch up to see down to the river below. There the East Allen runs fast and brown with silt, eddying round the large boulders in its path. A white-chested dipper bobs up and down. The bird darts from rock to rock, then nips underwater before shaking its head and waggling its tail like a wet dog. Among the tangled trees that lean over the river are slender hazels, their tumbling catkins lighting the depths with pale yellow streaks. A female goosander slides with the current, her body low to the water.
This solid double-arched bridge spans the bottom of a gorge into which descend two steep roads: Appletree Bank and Colliery Lane. There are no signs of apple trees on the south side but the road is edged with drystone walls, their outlines blurred by hummocks of moss and polypody ferns. Fine branches of honeysuckle twist back on themselves where they have nothing to climb, their newly opened leaves sprinkled with rain.
To the north a wood of Scots pines stands above the gorge. Where their seed has fallen, a tiny pine is growing between two blocks of masonry on the bridge itself. In the outgrown hazel coppice below the pines a great tit is repeatedly calling, strident and urgent. Last year's woodruff stems lie flat on the ground, exuding a faint scent of new-mown hay. A single juniper grows among tree roots, the only one I've discovered on this north stretch of the East Allen river.
Colliery Lane is sunk deep between banks where ivy grows thickly up holly and ash trees. A stone-lined rill carries the water that would otherwise choose the steep road for its path. The stones, laid lengthways, fit together as neatly as bricks and water trickles down them, winter and summer. I wonder who laid this channel of stones, beautiful in their function, and how long ago.
Like so many of the layers written into this landscape, the makers are unnamed but their work remains. Reported by guardian.co.uk 11 hours ago.