Tartt’s Goldfinch.

Tour de force, but was it worth it for the morals at the end :  Beautiful things last; sometimes bad ends up good.

Apart from that – memorable.

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A Short Moorland Ramble

So, Folding bike on the bus to Helmsley then a short puff up to the junction for Rievaulx, down to the stream, across and along the mostly gentle curving foliage-covered valley-side road to Old Byland, where the structure below, of unknown utility, lurks in a hedge.

 Then there’s a bridleway leading to the scarp edge.  A little misty for a good photo but looking back east there was this –

and west, the next photo:

Note the field of sunflowers at almost the highest point of the Hambleton Hills.

And beside the same track:

 

Descending Sneck Yate bank on a Brompton felt quite hairy, but it was worth it, not least because just beyond the view and the fine oak was the Carpenter’s Arms, Felixkirk, a gastro-pub with a well deserved reputation, which set me up nicely for the 2 miles to Thirsk and the bus home.