A short walk from Noelle's Cottages

Tim slipped away with Millie to allow Noelle to enjoy her birthday celebration coffee morning with a group of her girlfriends. A yearly event in the Dutch tradition that is best left undisturbed by a male intruder. The day started sunny and mild and the walk past the Coach House garden showed the efforts we have made to put the garden to bed. Our landscape adviser loves to crown lift everything in sight and I have avoided a short back and sides only on account of having no crown myself. The huge sycamore has duly been trimmed to let more light into the garden.

There are still plenty of leaves and quite a few apples yet to come down. The bendy house has been woven tightly so that it behaves well in the spring.

At the top of the garden next to the road is a nature watching hide. I don't like to use the B word in case men with spades come. A present from my medical partners when I left the local practice last year. Two or three can sit quietly and watch through the glazed window at dusk. The wildlife has been very busy digging elaborate tunnel entrances and has an elongated latrine area down the cottage access road.

North Yorkshire is huge and sparsely populated which makes it an interesting place to visit. It is said that there are more sheep than people in the county.

Rusty farm machinery is often attractive and the blue sky with clouds is a lovely background. Its amazing how the horizon always seem to sport a row of trees...

The sky over the neighbouring farm looked amazing today complete with wheeling rooks.

The winter barley has sprouted and makes a carpet of green, the trick is to make an interesting composition which I have yet to manage.

Just to prove I really did take Millie. Here she is obediently sitting at the end of the road that runs north of the main road. The old Saxon layout of the village was to have the main street with its

farm buildings, some land adjacent to the farm, a road running beyond that and then more fields further away. Thus we should have High Back Side and Low Back Side. Infill executive housing on the south side of the village is now inhabited by those of a vintage where the address low back side might be appropriate but also offensive. Sadly the matching road was renamed Back Lane South. An opportunity missed I feel, perhaps a pressure group should be established..... Nearly opposite the road end is Londis, handy for fuel and for groceries and a surprising range of other items, thick walking socks, fly papers and remarkably good cakes as well as the magical Glave's pork pies.

Walking along the A170 for a couple of hundred yards is no great hardship although other dogs had clearly passed this way before. Slow progress with Millie inspecting every calling card left in the grass. Looking back towards the village gives a tranquil impression suggestive of another age.

Just round the corner is Keld Head House. This was a time capsule inhabited by old ladies who kept all their family possessions and never altered the structure. When they finally gave up the property there was a fascinating collection of items, narwhale tusk bed and walking sticks, Victorian writing practice books with elegant copperplate script, georgian clothing and many other personal artefacts. Downstairs the floors appeared to be of some burr walnut material. In fact it was polished beaten earth while upstairs there was a circular hole in the panelling which would have opened into a cupboard. This was for a servant to powder the wig while its wearer put their head through the hole. I think this was to reduce the population of lice rather than to enhance its colour. Much was lost when the subsequent owner made substantial 'improvements'.

Across the road is Keld Head pond which is fed from below by a huge volume of spring water. This is said to make the bottom of the pond into quicksand. The water is very pure and at a steady temperature, ideal for fish. It was a shame that Pickering sited its sewage farm 100 yards away and then led storm water into the outflow some half a mile downstream. Firstly we cannot drink the water for fear of contamination and then within weeks of completion the storm drain its poured mahogany coloured contents into the beck and all the trout, pike, grayling and others were killed off. The outflow from the pond itself however remains a magical sight with brilliant green clumps of weed against a chalky floor. The pond has been recently landscaped and we all hope for a sensitive return of wildlife.

Walking down the side of the pond leads to a series of bridges and the backside path. First though is the chance to see the swans which traditionally nest on a tiny island and then the weir which controls the flow of water into the beck.

The beck meanders gently past what probably had been water meadows while the somewhat muddy path crosses and recrosses the beck offering enjoyable views into the crystal clear water and also back to Middleton.

At this point I had hoped to amaze you with photos of pike grayling and brown trout and perhaps a few escapee rainbow trout. You will have to make do with the weed, and more views of the beck.

From the third bridge you can look into the trout farm with its aerating water paddles before plunging down a narrow dark tunnel in the hawthorn bushes. This is always atmospheric and a little unsettling though perfectly safe.

After a few yards you emerge onto a small lane, turn right and pass the millennium woods. A small cross roads allows you to deviate left to extend the walk, or right to buy fresh, often outsized double yolker, free range eggs from an honesty sales point - an old fridge.

The direct way back is to go straight across and along Middleton Carr Lane. A carr is a field and often a boggy one at that. The word may come from Norse origins. The Vikings often came to these parts and when they left there was a small community with strong Norse language links who remained. Stape is a scattered community above Newton who have an almost unintelligible dialect when they choose with many words of Danish. Nearer Middleton is the Aislaby United Football Club ground. This continues to be active but changed in style from 50 years ago when every village would have its own cricket and football team. Wrelton Middleton and Aislaby united to form this club.

Next to Carr House is this pile which is perhaps the northern extension of the Tate Modern...or not.

Back to the A170 and the Middleton Village Hall with its newly cleared village pond. Here Millie's predecessor and daughter had their inglorious moment of fame. They systematical cleared the entire flock of ducks to the indignation of the assembled village. Neatly laid out were rows of dead ducks and ducklings and two black labs with silly grins on their faces. I am not sure why I was the one to slink away so shamed.

The western approach to Middleton is marked by this giant suppository on the roadside. The wise men of the village are a little vague as to its origins, perhaps one of the shells fired into Scarborough, possibly a bomb dumped after a raid on Hull, maybe a wild apprentice pharmacist - who knows?

A little further along High Back Side is a view up 'The Dale' which is a glacial valley heading south to 'Lake Pickering' on the other side of the A170. This was the site of a cricket pitch some decades ago when the spectators would arrange themselves on the banks and look down onto the (surely Lilliputian) game below.

Millioe and I bumped into a wise historian and sole supporter of Aislaby United. A quintessentially Ryedale character complete with Wellies, bailer band in the pocket just in case and a dog on a string. He gives a regular rendering of Jake the Peg complete with an extra leg.

To complete the walk I dived into Middleton Church and surrounds. Viking, Saxon and later influences make this a fascinating place to visit. The original owners of Middleton Hall are to be found to the right of the entrance. His wife died giving birth to her eighth child, all the previous one had died at birth or infancy. Understandably perhaps he chose to move away and rent the Hall out before finding a new wife.

So then back to greet Noelle and enjoy some Dutch Apple cake. The whole walk should take no more than 45 minutes and is all on the flat other than for the bridges. A delightful wander whatever the weather. There is no such thing as bad weather, only bad clothes - so says the owner of Trailblazers who of course sell fabulous all weather clothing! Lots to see and think about and plenty of opportunities to take a half decent photograph.