I think it must have got lost in the move over here. An old ‘gazetteer’ dating back to the 1920s described this area as ‘ … a collection of grim and dour mining villages’. If I’d taken that as gospel, I’d never have moved here but, of course, it’s all changed now. The coal-mining industry is long gone, and you have to look really hard to find traces of it.

One clue I spotted from a bus window as it passed through Kippax. Someone had decided that there ought to be a reminder of those days, and painted a mural on the wall of a house. I’m rather keen on street art, so, since it’s only a 15-minute bus ride, camera in hand, I set off to photograph it.

It did raise some questions. There was no signature on it, so was it, maybe, created by a former miner?  Possibly an occupant, or former occupant of the house on which it was painted?

So, having taken my pictures, I was about to set off and catch the bus home, when I saw a nearby sign, pointing the way to ‘Scenic Views’. On this occasion, they weren’t that scenic, but perhaps when the visibility’s a bit better. They claim you can see the television mast on Emley Moor … you couldn’t really miss it on a clear day.

I did take a ‘panorama’ from lower down, which turned out a bit better; I might try again later, in better weather conditions.

I haven’t been posting as much as usual lately, mainly because a house move and some medical issues got in the way. But, I did find a minute (that’s all it took!) to edit the slight video I took of Salisbury’s new electric buses. I deliberately didn’t put in a sound track in some of it, because I wanted to show how quiet they were. But, I did leave in the ELO tribute band, who played at the opening, and did seem rather to contradict that message!

Up here in Yorkshire, they haven’t gone electric yet; there are still quite a few diesels around. We’re taking a bit more notice of them, though, because I’ve decided to give up the car. Anno Domini is starting to rule. They’re talking about bringing in more draconian rules for us over-70s to retain our licenses, and I don’t like driving much anymore, anyway.

Fortunately, we have a very good service here; there’s one stop at the end of the street, where there’s a bus that will take us to the supermarket. That only comes every two hours, but there’s another in the next street which runs into the town centre every 20 minutes. Or, if we get one in the other direction, into Leeds itself.

We can also get to Castleford, Wakefield or Selby; Yorkshire is our oyster. So, bus passes in hand, we’re about to launch on a new exploration.

Someone once said that everyone should live within walking distance of some green space. I’m not sure whether that actually happens, but I do know I’ve never lived far from somewhere that isn’t tarmacked over, whether it be countryside, municipal gardens or just a clump of trees or an area of grass.

I came upon one if the better ‘green spaces’ the other day, when I visited Rothwell, in Yorkshire. There, there’s a linear, carefully tended park, on the banks of a slight stream. A nice touch is a ‘dementia garden’. Here, there’s a carefully tended enclosed garden, which is planned to give those unfortunate enough to suffer from that horrible condition a place to feel safe and comfortable.

And, to add to the calming effect, there’s also a little aviary, where you can sit and watch the exotic birds within.

Here’s a challenge for photographers … take some images of those beautiful birds, but deal with the mesh enclosing them. It can be done … but be prepared for a high failure rate!

If you compare a map of Britain’s railway system with a similar map dated from, say, the 1930s, you’ll notice a vast difference. It was once said (probably inaccurately!) that nobody in England lived more than 10 miles from a railway line. That, of course, is no longer the case. The reforms of the 1960s, popularly known as the Beeching Axe were responsible for a large part of the cuts, but they’re not wholly to blame. A lot of lines just fell out of use because there was no longer any call for them.

But, what happened to them after the tracks were taken up? In theory, the land could be returned to the original owner, and, in some cases, this did happen, and the land reverted to agricultural use, or was built over.

Some were taken over by ‘heritage railways’, where volunteers raised money to buy the line, and operate restored trains along them. But, many were adopted by local councils and such as walking or cycle routes. Some were designated as nature reserves, for which purpose they were ideally suited, because pesticides were rarely, if ever, used on them.

Close to where I used to live, a stretch of former railway has been adopted as a butterfly sanctuary; I’ve seen deer, adders and slow-worms along there too. Even though the track runs by a busy airfield!  And, in Scotland, a good stretch of the Speyside Way runs along the trackbed of the former Speyside Railway.

But, I don’t have to go that far to ‘walk along the tracks’. Just a few steps from where I live now, I found the Lines Way. This is the trackbed of the former railway line between Garforth and Castleford. It starts on Ninelands Way … I presume the land between there and the station has long since been built over. Signposts tell you this is the way to Kippax. I haven’t been that far yet, but you are ‘in nature’ as soon as you’ve passed under the Selby road.

The path is, in fact, walkable or cyclable as far as Allerton Bywater. What happens beyond that, I don’t know, but there is a good path, which I suspect was once a railway track, from Allerton Bywater to an open-cast coalmine, now, a nature reserve. Maybe this was a branch along which coal was transported?

(It should, of course, go without saying that you should NEVER walk along tracks which are still in use!!)

We went to Lotherton Hall to see the Kite Festival. Unfortunately, because of negligible winds, the kites didn’t perform very well. But, the other attractions, including Wildlife World, compensated for it.

There were the extensive gardens to explore, with lots of little nooks to sit, and contemplate. And, at one point, wonder how they managed to get so many dahlias, all the same colour?

The house was a bit ‘seen one Stately Home, you’ve seen them all’ … this one slightly different, in that there were plenty of places around the recommended route where you could sit down.

We had lunch in the Courtyard. It was somewhat crowded, and we made a mental note to revisit outside the school holidays. Likewise, Wildlife World. I saw the line of cages, and wasn’t, at first, too impressed. Probably because, at the time, I was reading Our Zoo, by June Mottershead. She tells the story of her father, George, who established Chester Zoo, one of the first ‘zoos without cages’.

It would seem, at first glance, that the animals and birds were simply put in cages for visitors to view. But, they are cared for; we saw a zookeeper trying to catch a crane, who explained she was going to take it somewhere quieter, as it was getting stressed.

However, there were ‘enclosures’ for the larger animals … that is, the relatively larger animals; no rhinos or elephants, or anything like that. There isn’t enough space for them. Or any carnivores; it would cost a fortune to feed them.

It should be noted that Wildlife World doesn’t use the words ‘Zoo’ or ‘Wildlife Park’. It seems to be an honest attempt to show animals from around the world, within the constraints of space and budget.

While a lot of people waxed lyrical about the upcoming eclipse of the Sun on the 12^th of August, it was a bit of a non-event up here in Yorkshire. Daylight didn’t turn to darkness, and the birds didn’t stop singing. In fact, if the Media hadn’t spent the last few days banging on about it, I probably wouldn’t have paid much attention to it. What I saw looked rather looked like a translucent disc had been placed in front of the sun. Mind you, I didn’t look at it for very long; I didn’t buy any ‘eclipse glasses’, for I wouldn’t be able to use them again for quite some time!

I thought I wasn’t very successful at photographing it, either. But, on closer examination … look at the image at about ‘half past five’ to the Sun. Refraction, of some sort, maybe?

I got better results in 1999; a layer of thin, translucent cloud helped a lot. Also, I was using an SLR, on which I’d piled almost every filter in my bag, which accounts for the orange cast.

That’s something I can’t really do with the digital compact or smartphone I use these days.

Last week, I posted about ‘Oddball’, a gigantic walking dragline excavator, which was once used at an open cast coal mine, and preserved as a memorial to the miners who worked here. The craters left by the coal mine are now full of water, and home to the St. Aidan’s Bird Reserve. As well as a memorial to the miners, ‘Oddball’ is also a favoured nesting site for kestrels and Little Owls.

I will, in the future, probably be posting more about St. Aidan’s, for I’ve applied, and been accepted as a volunteer here; it’s only a short bus ride away from where I now live. But, I will try not to make this too much of a birdy blog!

I’m wondering about the name, though. I don’t think there’s any connection between St. Aidan and birds, apart from a tenuous one.

I associate St. Aidan with Lindisfarne (which I hope to visit in the not too distant future) and Lindisfarne with birds.

Maybe there’s a church dedicated to him in the vicinity?

We’re slowly settling into our new home, and thinking about exploring what’s to be seen locally. Only a short bus-ride away is ‘Oddball’, a gigantic walking dragline excavator. It was used at an open-cast coal mine; the mine is long gone, but the excavator was preserved as a memorial to the ‘sunshine miners’ who operated here.

Just before we moved here, we were presented with a book 111 Places in Leeds You Mustn’t Miss. ‘Oddball’ is listed here, but, impressive as it is, I wondered if anyone would make a trip especially to see it. But, the former mine is now the St. Aidan’s Nature Reserve, and that is well worth a visit.

Electric junction boxes are usually a dull, uninspiring Army green. Not in Leeds; schoolteacher Andy McVeigh has been decorating the streets around Elland Road, the football ground of Leeds United. Usually in the club’s colours; they’ve led to him being dubbed ‘The Burley Banksy’.

I photographed this one in Horsforth, which is a good way from Elland Road. Which leads me to wonder; is Andy’s net spreading even further, or does he maybe have his imitators?   

The way to the shops from where we were staying led down Drury Lane. Despite several perambulations along which, I failed to see the Muffin Man! At the end of the lane, there was a little ‘sort of’ park, and my attention was caught by a gaudily painted bench. I wanted a photo, so I moved a little closer, along a paved path.

Looking down, I noticed some strange markings on those paving stones. Putting my glasses on, I saw that they were actually 250 year old tombstones, which had been repurposed as paving stones! I remembered how some of my older relatives, when they felt uncomfortable or uneasy about something, would say ‘Someone just walked over my grave’, and at first, I felt almost the same way. But then, I reasoned it was extremely unlikely that the mortal remains of those commemorated would actually be under them.

So, I went on my way … but, with a silent apology to Mr. John Kettlewell and his friends.