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WELBURN crossroads on the A170 has a number of ancient oaks spread about its southern side. Their upper branches at present are often occupied by large black birds, with them being the lazier element of Welburn's rook population doing little else but taking in the scenery.
In truth, they are close to a rookery here, and to be fair, probably enjoying a break from checking last year's nests for structural defects, ready for an early start to egg-laying.
Turning off the A170 at this point and driving down to the back lane which leads past Welburn Hall and on towards Ness, a grey afternoon in early January produced a sum of feathery events in the space of 20 minutes.
Waddling about the fields bordering Bowforth, congregations of rooks were seeking an early supper around 3.30pm against a backcloth of cloud and a low sun no more than a pink gash to the west. A mile or so farther down, this narrow road ran through a beautiful stretch of country, which could well be considered the heart of Ryedale.
From Welburn Grange, it runs on past Sunley Court, Trowbridge, and Muscoates Whin, where I recall years ago there was a massive starling roost. Finally, past 'Muscoates only' before crossing a tricky Riccal bridge and gradually coming to a halt on the long straight down to West Ness.
Here, the traveller enters an expanse of Rye landscape extending upstream for miles - from Waterholmes and Ness across to Nunnington, and on to where the river's meanderings loop below Harome as it flows down from Helmsley. Scenery from Muscoates Grange and Riccal House over to the rising ground of Caulkleys conveys a wonderful easiness on the eye.
Somewhere to my left that afternoon, a kestrel departed a hedge-top as, simultaneously, a lone mallard took a fast rainbow trip from Ness to Nunnington. Minutes later, peering into the Riccal and thinking of another bridge upstream -it's southern banks once forming an attractive edge to the grounds of a Roman Villa - there came an unfamiliar sound.
Growing ever louder and coming in from North Holme, it was like the twanging of tautly-strung wires. I turned to see two swans, necks outstretched, flying low over the fields towards Nunnington. They soon disappeared, but the atmosphere was still and the sound continued until a lengthy splash indicated they had landed on a nearby lake. At that distance it wasn't easy to place them but the twanging wingbeats turned out to be mute swans, the graceful variety usually associated with park lakes.
The elevated road from Ness to Nunnington, and Caulkleys bank walk above it, offers a fabulous view of Ryedale with distant Kirkbymoorside resting beneath the southern slopes of the North York Moors. After turning right eventually at the war memorial, the National Trust's Nunnington Hall can be found and a scattering of Highland cattle nearby. A 17th century packhorse bridge spans the leisurely Rye - a bit tricky for traffic and not the best of places to play Pooh-sticks!
On the way home by Wombelton aerodrome, I drove beneath a descending microlite, looking for all the world like an incoming pterodactyl in the gathering dusk. This airfield once had a landmark known for its fox cubs back in the seventies. A pyramid of concrete slabs - part of a dismantled runway perhaps - housed many a breed within its dark and doubtless smelly interior. Young cubs still pop out of the overgrown verges to snap at moths on warm June evenings but at this time of year, well grown, they are more likely to be seen as bright eyes reflected in headlights or crossing the road in daytime ahead of a waving cap and a loud hello.
This little trip over the Riccal, along the Rye and back to our main artery via Dunkeld, is a pleasurable experience. A personal pleasure, too, from Kirby as this particular landscape is viewed from our windows each morning; to fade at night into car lights topping Caulkleys, then to become intermittent pinpoints of brilliance as they pass down through the avenue of sycamores to Nunnington.
Updated: 16:14 Thursday, February 15, 2001
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