England Day Seven: Many Small Adventures

This day, the adventures stayed relatively local, but that didn’t make them any less exciting. Gilly joined us at Bryony’s house, and we (me, Gilly, Bryony, Naomi) set off for Bridestones Moor, she in a lovely white gown borrowed from our friend Anna, and me in boots, leggings, and a leather tunic. When we arrived at the moor, my fabulous team helped me get leather bracers and a single pauldron on for the photos.

Bryony is a super talented photographer, and found several wonderful spots for us to set up and pose. Naomi meanwhile was shooting fabulous behind the scenes footage, one of which wound up making it into the final shots. And Gilly, well she completely embodied the hare faerie of my story, infusing her with so much pathos and gentleness, there’s no way anyone could mistake her for a villain.

The morning was cloudy and grey, but it was mostly dry, and I would much much rather have clouds for a photography day than sun. We received some bemused looks as we nuzzled and canoodled, but there were no interruptions, and other than wet mossy butts and cold feet (you’re such a trooper, Gilly, for going barefoot for some shots!!), no injuries.

We all drove to Heptonstall for lunch at a vegan café (Towngate Tearoom). The walk from the car park to the café was a gorgeous tease, but we would have time to wander and meander after. I ordered a chicken avocado panini, a scone, and some cocoa. Bryony wound up getting a vegan cheesecake to take home that astounded her whole family with its deliciousness. I suspect they will be (have been?) back to that café many times.

After a wonderful and cozy meal, we stopped by a shop next door called the Workshop, with a small gallery of art pieces. And it’s there I met Fen and Fionn, (spoiler alert, I named them) I was instantly smitten, in awe of the life and magic (and total lack of twee or tackiness) accomplished in clay. But…it was clay. I was thousands of miles and an ocean away from home. So I put on a pouty face and we moved on to walk around the village.

Every vista was just so stunning, and chickens meandered around our feet as we explored overgrown picnic spots, random small cemeteries, and mossy stone walls in dedicated relationships with gnarled trees.

The highlight, however, was the ruin of the church of St. Thomas of Beckett. Uniquely enough, the ruins share a graveyard with the newer church right next door. Large crooked slabs of stone crowd the graveyard along with the headstones, making for difficult terrain to get to the ruins: small but beautiful, vaulting arches pirouetting to an empty sky.

Gilly found an especially lovely little photo spot, and we all took turns getting portraits there. I think these are my favorites (of those that are solo shots) from the whole trip. Thank you to Bryony who let me borrow her goooooorgeous wool cloak on this day. (Sorry, but I LOVE these photos so I’m sharing every single slightly different one.)

Naomi was starting to feel quite tired, so when we drove to Hebden Bridge for a brief peek around the antique shop she hopped on a bus back home. No luck finding treasures at the shop, but Bryony suggested we still had enough light in the day to visit the bluebells of Hardcastle Craggs. By this point in the trip I admit I was getting pretty exhausted. My daily life doesn’t include nearly as much exercise or movement as it should. So I was a bit hesitant to contemplate a walk and I requested that perhaps we could go as far as I felt I could manage and then we could walk back. It was agreed, and although we apparently didn’t end up going as far as we could have, oh my were there beauties to see in the woods. 

We were careful to only walk through or to gaps in the oceans of bluebells, (please please never ever trample bluebells) but I found a few little bits that had broken off as people or animals brushed by, and traded a few for strands of hair. The mossy trees and stones were also stunning. Darker, rich-colored photos below are by Bryony.

We even found a really beautiful stone floating in the flowers and ferns that resembled a natural headstone. 

After a tiring but wonderful day, we returned to Bryony’s, and Gilly headed home. I turned to Bryony as we settled down that evening and admitted….

“I really regret not getting that little puckish faerie and their rabbit friend….”

No worries, we thought. We could swing by the next morning before our plans for the day. Then we checked the business hours. They weren’t open again until Friday. I was leaving Thursday. 

Faeries never say die, however. After we tried calling several times the next day, looking for their social media (not updated in 5+ years), Bryony thought to try to contact the artist, Chyna de la Mer, who was a Facebook acquaintance. Chyna got us the cell number of the gallery owner, who answered our call on the evening of the following day, and we set a plan to stop by the gallery just long enough to pick up the duo. 

That wasn’t the end of the trials I had to go through to get the two of them home, but the rest of the story is coming.

For now, it was time to sleep. Because the next day we’d be going to the one place I specifically asked to make a return trip to this visit: York.