From Loom to Legacy: The Unfolding Story of Dean Clough

Step back in time to the heart of Halifax, West Yorkshire, and you'll find a monumental testament to Britain's industrial past: Dean Clough Mills. Today, it's a bustling hub of commerce, arts, and culture, but its origins are rooted in the very fabric of the Industrial Revolution. This isn't just a collection of old buildings; it's a living museum, a phoenix risen from the ashes of a bygone era.

The Crossley's Carpet Kingdom

In its heyday, Dean Clough was home to a globally dominant enterprise. Built by the Crossley family, who founded Crossley's Carpets, the complex expanded rapidly between 1840 and 1869. The first mill was built in 1802, and the family's foresight and ambition transformed a small valley into an industrial powerhouse. At one point, Dean Clough was the largest carpet mill in the world. Imagine the sheer scale: thousands of workers, the rhythmic clatter of looms, and mountains of wool and yarn being transformed into carpets that graced homes across the globe. The mills were more than just a workplace; they were the lifeblood of the local community. The sheer size of the buildings, as seen in the photos, hints at the immense scale of this operation.

Decline and Rebirth

The golden age of Dean Clough wouldn't last forever. In 1970, Crossley's Carpets moved its headquarters to Kidderminster, a sign of changing times. Faced with declining sales and fierce competition from cheaper imports, the looms fell silent for good in 1982, leaving a massive, derelict site. It could've been the end of the story, with the buildings left to decay like so many others from that era. However, a remarkable transformation was on the horizon.

In 1983, two visionaries, Sir Ernest Hall and Jonathan Silver, saw potential where others saw ruin. They bought the complex and set about turning it into the Dean Clough Galleries and Industrial Park. While their partnership was short-lived, with Sir Ernest Hall taking the reins a year later, his commitment has been unwavering. To date, he has invested over £20 million into the redevelopment. The vast, empty sheds were repurposed into essential parking spaces, and the Victorian buildings were meticulously restored. The resulting space is now a vibrant mixed-use development.

Modern-Day Marvels

Today, Dean Clough is a thriving ecosystem. Over 150 companies have made it their home, ranging from small start ups to established businesses. But its purpose extends far beyond commerce. The complex now features a hotel, leisure facilities, restaurants, and the renowned Viaduct Theatre. This blending of old and new is what makes Dean Clough so captivating. The imposing brickwork of the old mills now stands alongside modern infrastructure, creating a unique and compelling architectural landscape. The presence of the large, metal sheep sculpture adds a touch of quirky art that pays homage to the site's wool and textile history.

The redevelopment of Dean Clough is a shining example of how industrial heritage can be preserved and repurposed for the 21st century. It's a reminder that even when an industry dies, its spirit can live on, transforming a relic of the past into a beacon of the future. The next time you find yourself in Halifax, take a walk through Dean Clough. You'll be treading the same paths where a global empire was built, and witnessing a legacy that continues to unfold.

I took these pictures with a Polaroid is2132 camera in May 2015, clicking on any of them should open a link in another window to my Colin Green photography store on Zazzle.

All the pictures can be seen in the YouTube slideshow below.

Please take a moment to share this post, follow me on social media, and explore my work on Clickasnap and Photo4Me using the links below. Your support means a lot!

All the images remain the copyright of Colin Green.

End of the Line: A Farewell to Cottingley Railway Station?

On a seemingly ordinary day, August 27, 2022, I stood on the platform of Cottingley Railway Station near Leeds, my Nikon D3300 in hand. The sun was out, the tracks were glinting, and a train approached with a familiar rumble. What was captured in those photographs, however, was not just a snapshot of a working train station, but a moment in time for a place on the brink of change.

Cottingley Railway Station is a modest two-platform stop, a vital link for the communities of Churwell and Cottingley. It was built with function in mind, a no-frills facility with limited shelter and access. Yet, since its opening on April 25, 1988, it has been a quiet success story. Created by the West Yorkshire Passenger Transport Executive and British Rail, it steadily grew its patronage. The annual usage surged from a humble 10,000 in the early 2000s to a remarkable 100,000 before the COVID-19 pandemic. This growth is a testament to its importance to local commuters.

But change is on the horizon. A new, state-of-the-art station, the White Rose Railway Station, is being built just half a mile away on the same Huddersfield Line. The proximity of the two stations makes keeping both unviable, and as a result, Cottingley is scheduled to close. The pictures I took that day feel like a farewell tour, a visual record of a place that will soon become a memory.

The images tell their own story. The signs are clear and functional, guiding passengers to Platform 1 for services to Leeds and Platform 2 for those heading away from the city. The basic shelters, a splash of yellow against the grey platforms, are a stark reminder of the station's utilitarian purpose. Yet, there is a beauty in this simplicity. The footbridge, with its intricate metalwork, stands out, a structure that will thankfully remain as a public right of way even after the station closes.

And then, there are the trains themselves. The photos capture a Trans Pennine Express service pulling into the station, its lights cutting through the shade of the bridge, and another departing, a symbol of the journeys that have begun and ended here for over three decades.

The closure of Cottingley Station is a classic case of progress vs. history. While the new White Rose station will offer improved facilities, better accessibility, and a strategic location to serve the nearby White Rose Shopping Centre and Office Park, it marks the end of an era for Cottingley. The footbridge, a physical and symbolic link between the two communities, will remain, but the trains will no longer stop.

As a photographer, I find myself drawn to these moments of transition. They are reminders that even the most mundane parts of our infrastructure have a story. Cottingley Railway Station is more than just a stop on the line; it's a place that has served a community, enabled countless journeys, and witnessed the rhythms of daily life. Soon, it will fall silent, a ghost station on a busy line.

Clicking any of the images below should open a link in another window to my Colin Green Photography store on Zazzle.

Please take a moment to share this post, follow me on social media, and explore my work on Clickasnap and Photo4Me using the links below. Your support means a lot!

All the images remain the copyright of Colin Green.

A Snapshot of Village Life: Lealholm Post Office & Service Station

Lealholm is a village that seems to exist at its own pace, a peaceful hamlet nestled in the heart of the Esk Valley. On a sunny day in August 2022, I found myself exploring this tranquil corner of North Yorkshire, having just visited the quaint Lealholm Railway Station. As I walked back towards the village centre, I stumbled upon a truly charming sight: the Lealholm Post Office and Service Station.

What immediately caught my eye was how a seemingly ordinary stone house had been transformed into what is undoubtedly a central hub for the local community. It’s a place that feels as if it has grown organically from the landscape, serving the needs of the village's approximately 380 residents and the surrounding rural communities.

The photographs, taken with my Nikon D3300 SLR camera, capture the essence of this little building. There's a certain timeless quality to it. The stone exterior, the traditional roof tiles, and the potted flowers by the front door all contribute to a sense of warmth and welcome. The vibrant red of the post box stands out against the muted tones of the stone, a small but powerful symbol of connection.

This place isn't just a post office; it's a vital service station as well, a testament to its role in a rural area where such amenities are a lifeline. In a world of digital communication and big-box stores, there's something incredibly reassuring about seeing a place that combines these essential services under one roof. It speaks to a way of life that values convenience and community in equal measure.

The art-style versions of the photograph, with their textured, painterly effect, add another layer of charm. They transform the scene into something more than just a snapshot; they make it feel like a cherished memory or a piece of folk art. They highlight the rustic, lived-in quality of the building and the lush, green backdrop of the surrounding hills.

This image, and the feeling it evokes, reminds me of the unique character of rural life. It’s a world where a single building can be a post office, a shop, and a place to fill up your car, all at once. It’s a place where neighbours likely know each other by name and where a trip to the post office is not just an errand but a chance for a chat. The Lealholm Post Office and Service Station is more than just a building; it’s a heartbeat of the community, a humble yet essential hub of village life.

Clicking the images below should open a link in another window to my Colin Green Photography store on Zazzle.

Please take a moment to share this post, follow me on social media, and explore my work on Clickasnap and Photo4Me using the links below. Your support means a lot!

All the images remain the copyright of Colin Green.

An Autumnal Walk: All Saints Church, Salterhebble

The crisp air, the rustle of fallen leaves underfoot, and the warm, low light of an autumn day create the perfect atmosphere for a journey back in time. On October 24, 2014, I found myself drawn to the timeless beauty of All Saints Church in Salterhebble, Halifax. Armed with my Polaroid is2132 bridge camera, I set out to capture the essence of this historic place, and the resulting images tell a story of faith, community, and the passage of time.

As you approach the church, the first thing that strikes you is the sheer presence of the building. The tall, elegant spire reaches towards the sky, a beacon of faith built from the local stone. It’s no wonder that a significant part of its construction was a community effort, with Samuel Rhodes generously providing over 400 cartloads of stone from his own quarry. This collaborative spirit is etched into the very fabric of the church.

Designed by the prolific architects James Mallinson and Thomas Healey, whose work can be seen in several other churches in the area, All Saints Church is a testament to the Victorian Gothic Revival style. The pointed arches, intricate stonework, and stained-glass windows are all hallmarks of this architectural movement, designed to evoke a sense of awe and reverence. The foundation stone was laid on August 26, 1857, and the church was consecrated and opened for worship the following year, in 1858. It has been a continuous place of worship ever since, its walls having witnessed generations of baptisms, weddings, and funerals.

Walking through the churchyard is a contemplative experience. It’s an overgrown, verdant space, where ancient headstones, some leaning and weathered with time, are partially reclaimed by nature. The sepia tones of the photographs capture this sense of history and quiet decay, highlighting the ornate crosses and memorials that stand as silent sentinels. A path, strewn with fallen leaves, winds its way between the graves, inviting you to wander and reflect.

One of the most remarkable sights in the churchyard is a large, ornate memorial, a striking contrast to the more traditional headstones. This is a mausoleum, a grand statement of remembrance and a captivating piece of architecture in its own right. With its intricate arches and detailed carvings, it stands as a testament to a significant person or family from the parish's past.

Another discovery was a hidden gateway, a small archway in a stone wall, half-covered in thick foliage. It felt like a portal to another world, a secret entrance to a part of the church grounds less travelled. The vibrant greens of the leaves, still holding onto their colour in the autumn light, create a beautiful frame for the simple stone steps that lead you through.

The images taken that day, some in rich colour and others in a timeless black and white, capture the dual nature of All Saints Church. It is both a functioning place of worship and a living, breathing piece of history. The autumn colours highlight the beauty of the surrounding nature, while the monochrome images emphasize the architectural details and the solemnity of the graveyard.

As I left All Saints Church that day, I felt a deep appreciation for its enduring presence. It’s more than just a building; it’s a repository of stories, a link to the past, and a quiet haven in the bustling world. It stands as a powerful reminder of the community that built it and the history that continues to unfold within its walls.

Clicking any of the images below should open a link in another window to my Colin Green Photography store on Zazzle.

Please take a moment to share this post, follow me on social media, and explore my work on Clickasnap and Photo4Me using the links below. Your support means a lot!

All the images remain the copyright of Colin Green.

Unveiling History: A Dawn Walk at Baitings Dam

The sun began its slow ascent over the moorland, painting the sky in a blaze of gold and orange. The air, still cool from the night, held the promise of another warm day. But this wasn't just any sunrise; this was a moment of revelation at Baitings Dam, a reservoir that had, for a brief time, relinquished its hold on a forgotten piece of history.

Constructed to quench the thirst of Wakefield, Baitings Dam stands as a testament to human ingenuity. Completed in 1956 after eight years of arduous work and a cost of £1.4 million, it's the higher of two dams that harness the flow of the River Ryburn. Its lower sibling, Ryburn Dam, built in 1933, shares the task of supplying water to the city.

But with its completion came a bittersweet sacrifice: a small hamlet named Baitings was submerged beneath its rising waters. And with it, an ancient packhorse bridge, a vital link between the historic counties of Lancashire and Yorkshire, was lost to sight. Or so it seemed.

As I arrived on the morning of August 19th, 2022, the low water level—a result of the summer's heat—had performed a spectacular act of unveiling. The exposed, cracked earth of the reservoir bed stretched out before me, a stark contrast to the shimmering water that remained. And there, revealed in all its stoic glory, stood the old packhorse bridge.

For decades, this bridge has been a ghostly landmark, its existence a matter of local lore. While sensationalized reports claimed its first appearance in over 50 years, locals know better. This was not a unique event, but rather a more frequent occurrence in recent years, a consequence of the recurring summer heatwaves that are becoming the new norm in the UK. I’ve seen it at least three times in the last few years alone.

Standing by its side is a more modern successor: the concrete structure of Back O'th Heights Bridge. This bridge, with its sturdy pillars reaching down to the current waterline, offers a powerful visual lesson. The tell tale marks just beneath the road level show just how high the water can rise, a humbling reminder of the dam’s true capacity. When full, Baitings Dam holds an astounding 113 million cubic feet of water, or over 700 million gallons.

The River Ryburn, born from the run-off of the surrounding moorland, begins its journey here, flowing down the valley to eventually meet the River Calder at Sowerby Bridge, about six miles away. The dam is an integral part of this local landscape, and seeing it in this state of low ebb offered a unique perspective on its scale and the history it holds.

As the sun fully crested the horizon, its light caught the water's surface, creating a dazzling golden path that led directly to the rising sun. The pylon lines, a modern addition to the landscape, stretched across the sky, their silhouettes a stark line against the brilliant morning light. It was a beautiful, almost surreal scene.

For a photographer, Baitings Dam in this state is a dream. Every detail, from the cracked earth to the exposed foundations of the modern bridge and the newly visible old packhorse bridge, tells a story. And on this particular morning, using my Nikon d3300, I had the privilege of capturing a few chapters of that story as it unfolded under the golden light of a new day.

Clicking any of the images below should open a link in another window to my Colin Green Photography store on Zazzle.

The tide marks underneath Back O'th Heights Bridge show the dams level when full.

The former bridge is submerged for most of the year, it's appearances becoming
more frequent in recent years.

The former bridge can be seen beyond it's replacement, this gives an idea of how low
the water level has dropped due to the recent dry weather.

The waterless back of the dam beyond the former bridge, the water level normally
hiding the river that feeds it.

I took this further up the A58 towards Rochdale, looking across the fields in the direction
of the bridges and Baitings Dam.

Please take a moment to share this post, follow me on social media, and explore my work on Clickasnap and Photo4Me using the links below. Your support means a lot!

All the images remain the copyright of Colin Green.

Burnley Barracks: A Hidden Gem on the East Lancashire Line

Ever heard of a request stop? It's a bit like an old-fashioned bus stop, but for trains. You have to actively let the driver know you want to get on or off. That's exactly the kind of place Burnley Barracks is—a small, unassuming station on the East Lancashire Line, but one with a surprisingly rich history.

The station, which opened way back in 1848, was originally known as Burnley Westgate and served as the temporary terminus for the line. It was only meant to be a short-lived stop, but the rapid development of the area, including a new army barracks, led to its reopening in 1851. Renamed Burnley Barracks after the nearby military base, the station became a local hub, serving passengers while the larger stations at Rose Grove and Bank Top (now Burnley Central) handled the freight.

Today, Burnley Barracks is a simple affair. As you can see from the photos, the station has a single platform, a basic shelter, and a card-only ticket machine. It offers step-free access and relies on on-street parking, but its charm lies in its simplicity. It’s a quiet spot, often overlooked, but it's a vital link for the local community.

The station's history is written in its very structure. The old eastbound platform, which was taken out of use when the line was singled in 1986, is now largely overgrown and hidden from view. It's a subtle reminder of a busier past, a time when the station had two platforms and a footbridge connecting them.

While passenger numbers have fluctuated over the years—dropping significantly after the army barracks closed in 1898 and local slum clearances in the 1960s and 70s—they've been on the rise in recent years. This is thanks to new housing developments and a growing trend of people opting for public transport over their cars.

Burnley Barracks is more than just a stop on the line; it’s a living piece of local history. It's a testament to the changes in the area, from its military past to its modern residential communities. On my recent visit, it was the busiest of the eight stations I visited on the East Lancashire Line, with several passengers boarding and alighting the train.

There's a proposal to close the station should the line be upgraded, but for now, Burnley Barracks remains a quiet, functional, and fascinating part of the railway network. It’s a small station with a big story, a true hidden gem just waiting to be discovered.

So next time you're on the East Lancashire Line, why not make a request stop at Burnley Barracks? You might just find yourself stepping back in time.

The pictures were taken with a Nikon d3300 on the 19th August 2022, clicking any of them below should open a link in another window to my Colin Green Photography store on Zazzle.

Colne bound training just leaving. It would 45 minutes before another train passed through the station.
There is 1 train in each direction approx. every hour.

The entrance sign to the station

The station looking west from the end of the platform. Despite Junction Street Bridge (Foreground)
and Padiham Road Bridge (Background) passing over the station, the 2 platforms were connected
by a wooden passenger bridge sighted between the 2. I assume this was removed when the line
was singled in the 1980's, but it may have been earlier as there is evidence on another site entrance
just off Junction Street Bridge.

The station looking eastward (towards Colne) from the end of the platform. The stations only
facilities are the shelter seen before the bridge and a ticket machine to my right
just out of shot.

Please take a moment to share this post, follow me on social media, and explore my work on Clickasnap and Photo4Me using the links below. Your support means a lot!

All the pictures remain the copyright of Colin Green.

A Sunrise Walk at Baitings Dam

There's a certain magic to an early morning walk, especially when you're there to witness a landscape change before your eyes. Baitings Dam has been a regular fixture in the local news lately, with the unusually low water levels exposing secrets that are usually hidden beneath the surface. While some reports claim the old packhorse bridge has been seen for the first time in 50 years, that’s not quite right. In a world of changing weather patterns, what was once a rare sight is now happening every couple of years.

Just a few days ago, on August 19, 2022, I got up before the sun to capture a moment that beautifully illustrates this change. With my Nikon D3300 in hand, I headed to the dam, a place I often walk my dogs. As the sun began to rise, it cast a golden light over the landscape, illuminating a scene that tells a story of both nature and human history.

In the foreground, the original packhorse bridge stands revealed. This historic crossing once spanned the River Ryburn, long before the construction of Baitings Dam was completed in 1956. It's a humbling sight, a testament to a time when travel and trade relied on these simple, sturdy stone structures.

Just behind it, the more modern Back O'th Heights bridge seems to float above the water, a new path built for a new era. When the dam is full, the water level comes within just a couple of feet of this bridge, making the presence of the old one below even more remarkable.

As the sun climbed higher, it bathed the entire scene in a stunning glow. Its light caught the dam's headwall in the distance, a massive structure holding back the water that has both created this modern reservoir and submerged the landscape of the past.

This sunrise at Baitings Dam was a powerful reminder that history is not just found in museums or books; it's often right beneath our feet, waiting for the right moment to be revealed.

Please take a moment to share this post, follow me on social media, and explore my work on Clickasnap and Photo4Me using the links below. Your support means a lot!

The picture remains the copyright of Colin Green.