Stanza Stones - Stage 3. Thursday 9th. April 2015

Fifteen West Lancs members and Maisie the dog met at Ilkley and then took the train to Bingley. The sun was shining but even at 10am, when we began walking, there was a chill in the air. However, three miles along the canal followed by a steepish ascent to a coffee break on Banks Lane soon had most of us shedding layers, Sun cream and sunhats were in evidence; a far cry from two weeks previously when the vicious wind had us wearing waterproofs all day just to keep warm!! Field paths led us to Rivock Edge forest and our first Stanza stone, the "Dew Stone" on the forest edge. The stone is riven in two, with a gap between the two verses which reveals the view across the valley. Although only in situ for three years, the stone is already weathering and blending in with the drystone wall on either side.

Dew

The tense stand-off
of summer’s end,
the touchy fuse-wire
of parched grass,
tapers of bulrush and reed,
any tree
a primed mortar of tinder,
one spark enough to trigger
a march on the moor
by ranks of flame.
Dew enters the field
under cover of night,
tending the weary and sapped,

lifting its thimble of drink
to the lips of a leaf,
to the stoats tongue,
trimming a length
of barbed-wire fence
with liquid gems, here
where bog-cotton
flags its surrender
or carries its torch
for the rain.

Then dawn, when sunrise
plants its fire-star
in each drop, ignites
each trembling eye.

©Simon Armitage 2010

Then it was back into the cool of the trees before emerging near the isolated Black Pots Farm, then a short climb past the Doubler Stones and onto Addingham Edge, which we followed for just over a mile before turning back uphill onto Long Ridge and the West Buck Stones, where we stopped for lunch. The sun was still shining and the rocks were warm and sheltered; so much so that Glenn thought we were in a lido! The day's only boggy section (which only claimed one victim from our group) led us past East Buck Stones and then to Whetstone Gate, on the old Keighley to Ilkley Road. A flagged path then took us past the Thimble Stones (often referred to as the Puddle Stones, as they surround a large puddle) and then on to our second Stanza Stone of the day, the "Puddle Stone".

Puddle

Rain-junk
Sky-litter
Some May mornings
Atlantic storm-horses
clatter this way,
shedding their iron shoes
in potholes and ruts,
shoes that melt
into steel grey puddles
then settle and set
into cloudless mirrors
by noon.
The shy deer
of the daytime moon
comes to sip from the rim
But the sun
likes the look of itself,
stares all afternoon,
Its hard eye
Lifting the sheen
from the glass,
turning the glaze
to rust.
Then we don’t see things for dust.

©Simon Armitage 2010

Gareth informed us theat the stone flags we were walking on had been reclaimed from old mills but were now back in their true location. Over 500 tonnes of these flags have been airlifted to help maintain some of the footpaths over the moor - definitely making muddy conditions easier, but hard under the feet. Carrying on along the flagged path, we reached the trig point on White Hill and soon arrived at the Twelve Apostles Stone Circle - apparently dating back to the Bronze Age, although much interfered-with over the following centuries. We next joined the Dales High Way route for a short distance, before turning off to follow the left bank of Backstone Beck, past the Poetry Seat (an excellent spot for a quick drink stop) and on past children playing in the stream to a disused quarry, home to some ancient rock carvings, and then (after a bit of vague wandering as the leader had forgotten the way!!!) back up the beck a short way to the final Stanza Stone, the Beck Stone.

The Beck

It is all one chase.
Trace it back the source
might be nothing more than a teardrop
squeezed from a Curlew’s eye,
then follow it down to the full-throated roar
at its mouth - a dipper strolls the river
dressed for dinner in a white bib.
The unbroken thread of the beck
with its nose for the sea
all flux and flex, soft-soaping a pebble
for thousands of years, or here
after hard rain, sawing the hillside in half
with its chain. Or here, where water unbinds
and hangs at the waterfall’s face, and
just for that one, stretched white moment
becomes lace.

©Simon Armitage 2010

To finish the trail, it was a short walk past The Tarn and then down Wells Road to Ilkley town centre. All in all, the Stanza Stones Trail had been a good walk, with the added interest of the poems to find en route. Thanks to all who took part, and Stan and Shirley for the excellent photos. Just in case anyone hasn't had enough poetry, here's a bit of doggerel...

Stage One of the Stanza Stones Trail

Was spent in the teeth of a gale;

From the bus we set forth

But once we turned north

A headwind began to prevail.

Bent double and blown off our feet

The route became less of a treat:

When we left Stoodley Pike

The rest of the hike

Took us down – and its ending was sweet.

On Stage Two the weather was fine,

In the woodlands we saw celandine.

Over moorland we strode,

Then along the Cold Road,

And we soon heard a drone’s dreary whine.

By the Mist Stone we stopped for a bite,

Where the view was a beautiful sight;

There were grumbles and sighs

When the drone had no pies,

But the rest of the walk was alright.

Stage Three set off down the canal;

The sun shone, which aided morale,

When we stopped to have coffee

The layers were off – ee

By gum, it was quite pastorale.*

The Trail led through forest and moor,

Whilst above us the skylarks did soar,

The lunch stop was best

Where Glenn bared his chest,

But by 4 o’ clock it was o’er.

*Except for the wheelie bin which Chris sat by.

Click on pictures to view slideshow.