Buttercup Meadows

What do they say about buses – none come for hours than three turn up at once?!! So still running to catch up, this blog dates from the following day, 22 June, when I’d nipped across the mountains from the Lake District to the North Pennines.

In my mind, the early summer in the North Pennines is typified by the large number of traditional yellow meadows that even on wet and grey days, seem to shine out of the haze and illuminate the place with warmth all their own. The yellow is so bright that it shines out against the duller greens of the background, almost as if it has a fluorescent element combined within the flowers.

Buttercup Meadows in Teesdale – 22 June 2013 (Copyright Carol Jones)

These yellow meadows are mainly made up of the flowers of the Meadow Buttercup, where the yellow flowers stand out some inches above the height of the surrounding grasses. This extra height of the blooms, means that as the wind blows, they do a gentle swaying dance, as though moving to some unheard tune. In areas which are wetter, the Meadow Buttercups are accompanied by the much larger and richer yellow flowers of the Marsh Marigold. At the higher altitudes of the North Pennies, the Marsh Marigolds are still in full flower in the second half of June, as the season is somewhat later there than in warmer lowland areas. In areas which are even wetter, the Meadow Buttercups and Marsh Marigolds are accompanied by the jewel in the crown, in the form of the paler and almost majestic, delicate yellow blooms of the Globeflower. The Globeflowers sit there jumping out from the other yellows as being something special, like the diamond amongst glass.

Buttercup Meadows – 22 June 2013 (Copyright Carol Jones)

At a distance these meadows seem to be just made up of yellows, however, on closer inspection though yellow dominates they are often complemented by bands of white, formed from the flowers of the Pignut that take up station on the drier banks, adding variety to the bands of yellow. Further examination will of course add much more variety, hidden from view when the yellow shines at you from a distance and distracts the eye from the detail.

Here Today and Gone Tomorrow

This is the second blog from last weekend’s trip to the North Pennines.

Saturday had been bright and sunny and spring like but that was just to be a taster, by Sunday the clouds had thickened and sunk down towards the hills and the air held the promise of rain to come. In the course of a single night the North Pennines had gone from light and airy, with so much promise to dark and brooding, as though a storm was brewing in the distance, just waiting to burst upon the scene.

Heading towards Warcop, the moors behind were dark and menacing, highlighted only by the odd patch of snow remaining and showing no sign that spring was approaching. Now the occasional Dandelion flower along the road verge was a yellow beacon in the gloom, as the clouds swirled and moved above. The darkness of the hills behind seemed to make the green of the improved meadows close by seem bright and almost shine by comparison.

Warcop Fells – 21 April 2013 (Copyright Carol Jones)

The gloom of the day seemed to put a dampener on the movement of life, for even the lambs in the surrounding fields failed to cavort, preferring to remain close to the shelter of mother. Not everything was hidden though, for above there soared a Buzzard, moving as if it was as light as a feather in the chilly breeze. Round and round the bird soared, not noticing the approaching weather or that spring had taken a break, just lost in search for the next meal!

Warcop Fells – 21 April 2013 (Copyright Carol Jones)

Signs of Spring

This and the next blog date from my trip to the North Pennines last weekend, 20 and 21 April.

Saturday was a bright spring day where the sun had enough warmth to it when out of the wind, enabling me to sit on a bench and bake in the heat that was contained in the new rays. The wind though still had a strong winter chill to it, reminding me that winter hadn’t totally fled the scene yet. This reminder of winter was further enhanced by the patches of snow that were still around on the slopes of the nearby moors.

A Snow Patch at the County Boundary (around 590m asl) – 20 April 2013 (Copyright Carol Jones)

Riding up the South Tyne valley behind the characteristic squeaks rattles and shakes of a narrow gauge engine, is a perfect way to appreciate the beautiful views of the surrounding hills as they roll up from the river to the fells behind. The hills are sculpted by the highlights and shadows formed from the splashes of sunshine. From the train track the land dropped gently down to the river through a number of wet, rushy meadows, that are still dominated by the various browns of winter. Rising up the hills opposite, the hillside is first delineated into neatly walled fields, still green but old and tired, showing no signs yet of the new growth to come. Interrupting the neat lines of the walls, are the skeletal outlines of trees still wrapped fast in the blanket of winter, occasionally highlighted with the dark green of a lone conifer or a square of planted conifers. Very rarely there is the odd sign of spring where a Willow is found covered in pale yellow catkins. Finally rising up the hillside to the wilder heights above, various shades of brown from areas of rough grass and Heather dominate the final stretches of hillside up to the bright blue skies.

Looking Across the South Tyne up to Ayle Common – 20 April 2013 (Copyright Carol Jones)

Not all though is still wrapped tight in the blanket of winter, close to the line the odd spot of life can be seen. Poking out from amongst the tussocks of grass, still covered with the dead remains of last year’s growth there are spots of bright yellow in the form of Lesser Celandine flowers, shining like small stars in the spring sunlight. Accompanying these are the odd patches of much paler yellow Primrose flowers, raising their heads to proclaim the arrival of the warm sunshine. All of which promises the return of new life that begins to awake to the call of the warmth in the spring sunshine.