The Enigmatic Rain Stone at Blackstone Edge

 Venturing onto the wild and windswept moors of Blackstone Edge is an experience that connects you with a landscape of raw, untamed beauty. Tucked away on this ancient route, straddling the border between Yorkshire and Lancashire, is a fascinating geological feature known as the Rain Stone. It’s a place where history, folklore, and the rugged grandeur of the Pennines converge.

The journey to the Rain Stone is part of the adventure. The path, sometimes muddy and marked by puddles from recent showers, winds its way across the open moorland. Flanked by vibrant green grasses and low-lying heather, the track feels like a ribbon weaving through a vast, undulating expanse. In the distance, the modern giants of power pylons and wind turbines stand as a stark, yet intriguing, contrast to the timeless landscape. There’s a quiet majesty to the scene, a sense of solitude broken only by the sound of the wind.

But it's the Rain Stone itself that truly captivates. This dramatic gritstone outcrop rises from the hillside, its weathered layers sculpted by millennia of wind and rain. The topmost rock, perched precariously, looks as though it could topple at any moment, a natural balancing act that has stood for centuries. The stone’s dark, striated face tells a story of geological time, a silent witness to the countless seasons that have passed over the moors.

Legend and local lore swirl around the Rain Stone. Its name is said to come from its function as a kind of weather predictor; a damp stone would signal coming rain, while a dry one meant the weather would hold. Whether this is true or simply a charming piece of local history, the name perfectly captures the essence of the place. The weather on Blackstone Edge is famously changeable, and a day can bring sunshine, clouds, and a sudden downpour, all in a matter of hours.

Walking further along the path, you can appreciate the scale of the landscape. The moors stretch out in every direction, a patchwork of greens and browns that reach towards the horizon. The views are expansive, and on a clear day, you can see for miles. A small, stone-arched bridge crosses a narrow stream, a simple but elegant piece of stonework that seems perfectly at home in its surroundings.

The Rain Stone at Blackstone Edge is more than just a rock; it is a landmark, a focal point, and a symbol of the enduring power of nature. It’s a place for quiet reflection, for feeling the immense scale of the natural world, and for escaping the noise of everyday life. If you're looking for a hike with a sense of history and a touch of the dramatic, the journey to the Rain Stone is a walk you won't forget.

I took these pictures with a Nikon d3300 on the 27th May 2025, clicking on any of them 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 pictures remain the copyright of Colin Green.

A Journey Through Time: Mytholmroyd Railway Station

 On the last day of 2018, with my Nikon D3300 in hand, I took a stroll around Mytholmroyd, a village nestled in the heart of the Calder Valley. My destination was the railway station, a place that, like many others in this industrial landscape, holds a wealth of history and a quiet dignity. The photos I captured on that day tell a story of a place in transition—a past of industrial grandeur giving way to a new future.

The Old Station Building: A Glimpse into the Past

The most striking feature of the station is the original building. This Grade II listed building, with its rugged sandstone and classical lines, stands as a testament to the Victorian era of railway expansion. Opened in 1871 by the Lancashire and Yorkshire Railway, it was once the bustling hub of the community, complete with a booking hall, stationmaster's house, and waiting rooms. For many years, however, it sat derelict and boarded up, a sad sight for a building of such importance.

What the photos don't fully capture is the incredible story of its revival. After decades of neglect, a dedicated group of local volunteers, the Mytholmroyd Station Partnership, began a long-running project to bring it back to life. Their work, supported by grants from organizations like the Railway Heritage Trust and Northern, aims to transform the building into a creative community hub, breathing new purpose into this historic landmark.

---

The Viaduct and the Modern Station

The station is uniquely situated atop a magnificent viaduct, a feat of 19th-century engineering. The viaduct itself was built by George Stephenson and dates back to 1840, making it even older than the station building it now supports. From the street below, the imposing stone arches give a sense of the scale and ambition of the railway age.

While the old building was awaiting its new lease on life, the modern station was already serving the community. With two platforms, it's a vital part of the Calder Valley Line, connecting the village to major cities like Leeds and Manchester. The station is known for having step-free access to its platforms, a rare and helpful feature for a station built on a viaduct. The contrast between the old, unused entrance and the bustling modern platforms tells the story of a place that, despite its challenges, remains a crucial link for the people of Mytholmroyd.

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 pictures remain the copyright of Colin Green.

Exploring St. John the Divine: A Historic Gem in the Cliviger Valley

Tucked away in the scenic Cliviger valley, on the outskirts of Burnley, lies the beautiful and historic Church of St. John the Divine. This Grade II listed building is a testament to history, with a fascinating story that dates back to the 18th century, and even earlier.

A New Beginning on Ancient Ground

The current church was consecrated in 1794, but its history is much older. It stands on higher ground, a short distance from the site of an earlier, more rustic chapel that had served the community since the reign of King Henry VIII. When the original chapel became too dilapidated and small for the growing parish, it was demolished in 1788 to make way for the new structure. The new church, built in a simple classical style with squared sandstone, was largely funded by Dr. T. D. Whitaker, a local landowner and historian from the nearby Holme Hall.

Architectural Highlights and Hidden Treasures

The church's architecture is a striking departure from the more common Gothic style found in many English parishes. Its clean, classical lines, a pedimented entrance, and a bell turret topped with an octagonal cupola give it a unique and elegant character. But the real treasures are found both inside and out. The churchyard itself is a peaceful and beautiful space, with a winding path leading through a sea of old headstones and memorials.

One of the most notable features of the churchyard is the burial site of General Sir James Yorke Scarlett, the celebrated leader of the Charge of the Heavy Brigade during the Battle of Balaclava in the Crimean War. Despite his fame, Scarlett's grave is a humble memorial in this quiet corner of Lancashire. The church also houses remnants of its past, including a 16th-century oak pulpit and two intricately carved oak stalls with misericords, believed to have been moved here from the ruins of Whalley Abbey.

Another interesting detail is the large archway at the entrance, a lychgate, which stands as a welcoming portal to this historic site. Nearby, you'll find a war memorial in the shape of a cross, a poignant tribute to local lives lost in conflict. The church and its grounds are a peaceful place, where history, nature, and community intertwine, making it a compelling spot for a quiet stroll and a moment of reflection.

I took these pictures on the 23rd April 2016 with a Nikon d3300, clicking on any of them 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 pictures remain the copyright of Colin Green.

The Summit Tunnel Eastern Portal

 Today, I found myself at a place where history and engineering meet nature's wild beauty: the eastern portal of the Summit Tunnel, nestled just outside of Walsden. It’s a spot that, at first glance, is simply a picturesque railway cutting framed by lush greenery and the dramatic Pennine hills. But looking closer, and listening to the low rumble of a passing train, you can feel the weight of its incredible history.

The series of photos I captured tells a small story of this location. From the first glimpse of the tunnel's mouth hidden amongst the trees to the powerful sight of a train emerging from its darkness, and even a peek at the intricate brickwork of the portal itself. The images show a train heading towards the tunnel, and then moments later, another view captures a different train heading away from it. This constant movement is a testament to the tunnel's enduring legacy as a vital artery of the UK's railway network.

The Summit Tunnel is not just any old railway passage; it's a colossal piece of Victorian engineering. When it was opened in 1841, it was the longest railway tunnel in the world, stretching an incredible 2,885 yards (about 2.6 kilometers) beneath the Pennine hills. It was a groundbreaking achievement of its time, a key part of the Manchester and Leeds Railway that connected these two great industrial cities.

The construction itself was a monumental effort. Digging through solid rock and battling difficult geological conditions, the engineers and navvies of the era faced immense challenges. The tunnel was built with a series of vertical shafts to aid in the excavation, and the sheer scale of the work is hard to comprehend today.

Looking at the photo of the tunnel's brickwork, you can see the craftsmanship that has stood the test of time. The arches and the meticulously laid bricks are a silent monument to the people who built it. The railway lines themselves, shining in the daylight, lead the eye into the deep, dark mouth of the tunnel, a gateway to a different world.

Even today, as I stood on the bridge overlooking the tracks, the sight of a train disappearing into the tunnel or bursting out from it feels special. It’s a connection to the past, a link between the bustling cities and the serene countryside. This tunnel has seen the age of steam, the transition to diesel, and now modern trains continue to use it, carrying passengers and goods through the heart of the Pennines.

It's a reminder that beneath our feet and under our landscapes lie incredible feats of engineering that have shaped our country. The Summit Tunnel is more than just a route; it’s a living piece of history, a testament to human ingenuity, and a stunning landmark hidden in plain sight.

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.

November 2015: When the Calder Roared in Sowerby Bridge

The air in Sowerby Bridge felt different in November 2015. It was a time of unease, a prelude to a significant weather event that would forever be etched in the memories of those who lived there. These sepia-toned images, with their soft, melancholic feel, capture that moment of heightened tension, a time when the River Calder was not the familiar, tranquil waterway but a powerful, surging force.

Standing at Mearclough Bridge, the first thing that strikes you is the sheer volume and speed of the water. It's a churning, brown torrent, consuming its banks and threatening to reclaim the land it once sculpted. The normally visible riverbed is now a distant memory, and the water level has risen ominously high against the old mill building, its submerged windows like dark, gaping eyes. The sepia filter, far from diminishing the drama, adds a sense of timelessness, as if this isn't just a recent event but a recurring story in the valley's history. The leafless trees, with their stark, skeletal branches, seem to echo the stark reality of the rising water, a silent witness to the river's power.

Further upstream, at the Gas Works Bridge, the landscape presents a similar, unsettling picture. The river, viewed from the pedestrian bridge, fills the entire width of the valley. The usual calm flow has been replaced by a relentless, turbulent rush. In the distance, the iconic chimney on the hillside stands like a lonely sentinel, a silent observer of the unfolding drama. The sepia tone lends a painterly quality to the scene, highlighting the textures of the water and the silhouette of the trees against the grey, moody sky.

Looking towards the bridge itself, the images reveal the water lapping dangerously high against its stone arches. It’s a testament to the bridge's enduring strength and the skill of its builders that it stands firm against such pressure. The river, a character in its own right, is asserting its dominance, forcing us to remember that we are guests in its valley, and it is a powerful host.

These photographs are more than just records of a flood. They are a poignant reminder of the vulnerability and resilience of our communities. They speak of the raw power of nature and the way it can transform the familiar into something alien and threatening. They capture the quiet suspense of a town waiting, a community holding its breath before the events of December would truly test its mettle. These images, softened by time and the sepia filter, are a beautiful and haunting chronicle of a turbulent November in Sowerby Bridge.

I took these pictures on the 15th November 2015, approx. 6 weeks before the Calder Valley was devastated by flooding. They were taken with a Polaroid is2132 camera.

Clicking any of the images 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.

Brighouse Basin: A Canal-Side Escape in West Yorkshire

The Calder and Hebble Navigation is a vital part of West Yorkshire's rich industrial history, but today, it's also a tranquil and picturesque escape. Nowhere is this more apparent than at Brighouse Basin, a peaceful hub of activity where history and modern-day leisure blend seamlessly.

Approaching the basin, the view opens up to a wide expanse of water, dotted with colourful narrowboats moored along the banks. The basin serves as a perfect base for canal boats, providing a sense of community and a home for those who live on the water. It’s a great place to stop and watch the world go by, as a small pleasure boat might putter its way into the open water, or a family of ducks drifts by in search of a snack.

Walking along the towpath towards the main stretch of the canal, you get a real sense of the waterway's character. The path is well-maintained and provides excellent views of the boats and the surrounding architecture. Old stone bridges span the water, their arches framing the canal as it disappears into the distance. The contrast between the industrial heritage buildings, like the old mill and the striking white silo, and the lush greenery of the trees and bushes is a unique sight.

The canal meanders right through the heart of Brighouse, offering a different perspective of the town. You can see people strolling along the opposite bank, enjoying the sunshine and the peaceful atmosphere. The canal here feels like a hidden gem, a green corridor that provides a refreshing break from the hustle and bustle of the town centre.

Further down the navigation, the canal continues its journey, passing under more bridges and past more moored boats. The architecture varies from traditional stone buildings to modern flats with balconies overlooking the water. It’s a place that caters to everyone—from the serious boater to the casual walker, or anyone simply looking for a quiet spot to sit and enjoy the view. The Calder and Hebble Navigation at Brighouse is more than just a waterway; it's a vibrant, living piece of history that invites you to slow down and appreciate the beauty of a canal-side life.

I took these pictures in August 2018 with a Nikon d3300, clicking on any of them 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.