Worsendale

This is Worsendale, Bishop Wilton’s very own dale that descends steeply from the top of Garrowby Hill. Until three years ago, the right hand side was a beech plantation, and there was no clear view down the u shaped valley. Last year, the Estate replanted with beech saplings - which is a shame as there was potential to restore species rich chalk grassland on both sides of the valley. The unplanted side needs some grazing with Highland or other woolly cows to break up the dense mats of tor grass and provide regeneration niches for smaller herbs and grasses. Predictably, the replanting of the beech divides opinion in the village.

It was a wild night as expected, and we had to get up at one point to replace the blown out plugs of Kingspan that had been wedged into the doorway of the garage to protect the contents from the elements. Otherwise, there was little storm damage visible here or elsewhere as I did my circular walk over the Cliff to the top of Worsendale and back home. The frost is long gone and I’m back to trudging through mud. I had got about 300 metres from home when the first squall arrived, and gave me a good soaking. This pattern repeated itself throughout the walk, and from the top of Worsendale, the view through the moisture laden air was hazy with muted colours like a faded painting.

There was a lot of activity with builders, plasterers, plumbers and window fitters all on site today - so there was much visible progress at the end of the day.

I spent the late afternoon waiting for a phone call that never came, a telephone appointment with a hospital consultant. It had already been postponed from 4 December, so that was a little frustrating.