WHEN our grandchildren were younger and smaller, one of their favourite outings was to Brimham Rocks and the staggering views of Nidderdale from those heights. We were always happy to take the children because, despite the sometimes menacing presence of the Rocks and a few apparently dangerous locations, the area was surprisingly safe and definitely worthy of imaginative exploration.

Cared for by the National Trust, with spacious car parks, a shop and information centre, the Rocks can be visited at any time free of charge although the shop and information centre are open only from April until October. Visitors are asked to keep their dogs on leads due to the proximity of grazing livestock while the wild life that may be seen from here includes a range of animals from deer to hares by way of birds of prey and other smaller species as they hunt for titbits among the Rocks.

Finding the Rocks is not unduly difficult. From the north, the approach is via the B6265 Ripon to Pateley Bridge road while from the south you head north from the B6165 Ripley to Pateley Bridge road, turning off at Summer Bridge. The reward will be a patch of moorland some 387 acres in area with masses of huge and spectacular rocks.

They are in all kinds of weird and wonderful shapes and from here are magnificent views of surrounding Nidderdale but also York Minster, the Dales and North York Moors – if you know where to look!

But it is the Rocks themselves that are the main attraction, for they have been sculpted by wind and natural erosion into all manner of shapes. More often than not, you need to be in the right place to understand the names given to some of the Rocks. However, folklore attributes these Rocks to the work of the Devil or some other mysterious agency. Other tales suggest the Druids were responsible for the amazing shapes but the truth is that the winds of these heights are mainly responsible, helped by the varied weather.

It seems our early ancestors were afraid to climb to these heights, perhaps being terrified of the mysterious figures looming in the distance, and it seems it was not until the 17th century that visitors first began to explore. They climbed into those moors, took picnics and found some wonderful sights, later with a man called Major Hayman Rooke discovering that some massive boulders weighing several hundred tonnes could actually be rocked as they balanced on narrow bases. Four of those rocks are still known as the Rocking Stones.

Many others have wonderful names which create a desire to find them and work out their correct titles; there are maps and guides to help in this work.

Among the Rocks’ names are: Dancing Bear, Idol Rock, Yoke of Oxen, Pivot Rock, Chimney Rock, Druid’s Skull, Needle’s Eye, Cannon Rock, Druid’s Telescope, The Lamb, Druid’s Reading Desk, Pulpit, Baboon’s Head, Oyster Shell, Elephant, Tortoise, Flower Pot, Sphinx, Rhinoceros, Hippopotamus, Frog, Dog, Rabbit, Tiger, Boar’s Snout, Druids’ Altar, Druids’ Cave, Kissing Chair, Wishing Stone and others.

It was often said that somewhere among these Rocks there lived a witch who was known as The Great Sybil while another legend was that the Rocks formed a giant chess set. Not surprisingly, there are some which contain a hint of mystery and magic while others claim a romantic existence, being variously known as Lovers’ Rocks, Lovers’ Stones or even Lovers’ Leap. The latter is associated with an ill-fated romance which you will probably be told or allowed to discover if you visit these magical Rocks.

Garden warlords

Among the visitors to our bird feeders are several male blackbirds which, in previous weeks, seem to have spent a lot of time chasing each other around the garden or waging sparring contests on the lawn. By the time these notes get into print, I reckon some will have found a mate, built a nest or two in our ivy-covered walls and be well on the way to becoming proud parents.

In all these activities, the female blackbirds have been conspicuous by their absence, apparently allowing the males to behave like warlords fighting over spoils while the ladies get on with the serious task of constructing the nest and producing up to five eggs. Upon hatching, the chicks are expected to leave the nest after about a fortnight but continue to depend upon both parents for food.

This is where dad comes in useful. While he leaves much of the nest-building to the female, he does feed his wife while she is sitting on the eggs and also helps to feed the chicks both when they are still in the nest, but also when they hatch to take their first risky excursions on the lawns and fields, often with cats around.

It is difficult to imagine a rural garden without blackbirds, particularly in the early days of spring when their music is so

magnificent and melodious. One factor about blackbirds is that they can become tame very quickly, being noted for following gardeners as they dig the earth, hoping for some tasty morsels.

The adult male is so easily identified being all black with a yellow beak; his partner is the same shape and size but is brown with a brown beak; sometimes softly speckled marks can be seen among her breast feathers causing her to be mistaken for a thrush. Her chicks are similarly coloured with their spots being rather more distinct than mum’s; the male chicks will eventually produce the familiar black plumage.

In the past, female blackbirds were sometimes called French blackbirds because it was believed they were a foreign variety of blackbird. For reasons which I am not sure about, this was a common practice in Cheshire where the curlew, not often seen in Cheshire, would be called a French curlew. The use of “French” in those names is thought to have arisen because the local people believed these were foreign birds from overseas, visiting this country only on few occasions.

The prefix “French” occurs in a large number of words, with everything from French fries, via French polish to French leave, but so often it refers to something foreign rather than something closely associated with France.

I could find no particular superstitions associated with blackbirds although there are two items of associated weather lore. One says that if a blackbird sings before Christmas, he will cry before Candlemas (February 2), while another assures us that if the voices of blackbirds are especially shrill, or if they sing much in the morning, then rain will surely follow.

Summer time?

And finally, after the atrocious weather during the first days of this month, we can be heartened by the fact that next Monday is the feast day of St Urban. It is said that “St Urban brings the summer.” Let’s hope so.