The following photographs have already appeared on this blog, as part of the dead and buried WordPress Weekly Photo Challenge. The reason why I’m reposting them is the same as with the Albert Dock of Liverpool pictures. Arnside deserves its own post.
Arnside is a village in Cumbria, North West England, on the river Kent estuary in Morecambe Bay. It’s belongs to the Arnside and Silverdale Area of Outstanding Natural Beauty–you can see why.
I have added the following two pics for this post:
Here’s what happened when I took an unplanned walk to the village of Heptonstall from Hebden Bridge.
It started with this.
I thought, just because you can doesn’t mean you should–but I did it anyway. I saw how steep it was–but I did it anyway. I reckoned, if it gets too bad I’ll just turn back–but in the end I made it all the way to Heptonstall!
People I met on my way up did follow the instruction on the sign–honestly everyone was so dead nice!
I’ve not spent much time in the actual village, just enough to take some shots. My loss, probably, as there is a museum and also the poet Sylvia Plath is buried in the graveyard extension of the St Thomas the Apostle Church (but that I found out later by Googling, at home). I needed to preserve energy for the walk back!
It’s a very picturesque village as you can see.
Chicken at the Methodist church graveyard.
So that was trip to Hebden Bridge. A lot of it quite unexpected.
So here they are, as promised in my previous post.
These pastures are right beyond the Haworth Parsonage and the church–there are several little paths that lead out on the moors.
I believe Top Withens, carved on the above sign, was Emily Brontë’s original inspiration for the setting of Wuthering Heights.
I wish I could have seen more of the moors, but I had to rush back to town to catch the bus. Yeah, literally I ran on the moors, though for much more practical and much less romantic reason than that I wish I were a girl, half savage and hardy and free. (Well, I am ever an indoors person.)
Whatever our souls are made of, his and mine are the same.
I’ve always had hard time with Wuthering Heights. It was a struggle for me to read it in English (when Jane Eyre and The Tenant of Wildfell Hall weren’t) and I don’t like the narrative style, though I can get past that. What really was the problem, as it is probably for many people, was that the book was promoted to me as romance–when it isn’t. It’s a story about revenge and cycles of abuse, as brilliantly explained in this Tumblr post. Once I understood that, I got it. And what I always liked, even before I knew all of this, was the ending and how Catherine the younger and Hareton get together. I have no doubt the first Catherine and Heathcliff loved each other, but they were both awful and hurt everyone around them. Whereas Catherine Jr and Hareton chose kindness in the end and they lived happily ever after. (And let’s not forget, in the 1998 adaptation Hareton is played by Matthew Macfadyen, who went on to play Mr Darcy in the 2005 version of Pride and Prejudice!)
After seeing the moors with my own eyes, I no longer wonder why Emily Brontë wrote Wuthering Heights. How could she not?
My own video, made by smartphone.
You may have recongised the first line of this post, out on the wiley, windy moors, as the line not from the book, but from the 1978 song by the magnificent Kate Bush. I wonder, could this song be considered a musical version of fanfiction?
Fun fact: Kate Bush and Emily Brontë share the same birthday, 30th July.
In my last blog entry I shared the photos from my trip to Southport, but that wasn’t the whole trip. That same day, I also visited Formby, a town on the coast near Liverpool. Formby is known for its sand dunes, pinewoods and wildlife–apparently it’s a habitat of the endangered red squirrel, though I haven’t seen any (truth be told, I didn’t have much time, I literally ran from the train station to the beach, took pics and ran back, as it was quite late and I wanted to return to Manchester at reasonable hour).
Anyway, Formby is absolutely gorgeous, see for yourselves:
The pinewoods are conserved by National Trust, for the above mentioned wildlife.
Today, let me share with you some photos from my trip to Southport. Southport is a seaside town in Merseyside, North West England, over an hour by train from Manchester.
The bottom two are smartphone shots.
This trip meant a lot to me because this was the first time in ten years that I felt seawater. The tide was low as you can see, so I just took off my shoes and socks and went right in. I walked way, way past the pier. Of course, not being used to such hot weather (yeah, what’s up with that?) since moving to UK and not having been on the beach for a decade, I forgot I should have applied the sun cream regularly. Shrug, a bit of a sunburn won’t kill me.
As promised in my previous post, here are some pictures of Abney Park.
Water lilies, but no ducks or geese here.
So, WordPress peeps, have you ever visited a place that was connected to your favourite author? Whether it was a setting of their book or somewhere the author lived or frequented. Tell me in the comments!
Hello world, it’s Sunday again, which means Gloomscapes.
Lucky number thirteen it is today and so it has to be, of course, District 13 from the Hunger Games trilogy.
A mockingjay. Just a glimpse of it as it flies by. The same one every time.
~Susan Collins, Catching Fire (Hunger Games #2)
Mockingjay is, in the Hunger Games universe, a fictional hybrid bird, which becomes a symbol of Resistance. It’s also the title of the third book. When I viewed this picture on my computer and saw the flying bird, I was immediately reminded of the above quote from Catching Fire. I’m glad I got a chance to post it on the blog finally!