Rain, Ruins, Mustard and a Slightly Terrifying Tree

One of the things I enjoy most about photography is that it gives me an excuse to wander around places I would otherwise never visit. My latest outing took me into Cheesden Valley, visiting Cheesden Lumb Mill, Deeply Vale Mill and Washwheel Chimney, all reminders of the area's industrial past.

The day started well enough. The forecast promised dry weather.

The forecast lied.

Before long I found myself dodging an entirely unforecast rain shower while trying to keep both myself and the camera reasonably dry. Thankfully, the valley looked fantastic in the damp conditions, with the woodland taking on that rich green colour that only seems to appear after rain.

My first stop was the remains of Cheesden Lumb Mill.

Today it sits quietly amongst woodland and streams, but during the nineteenth century this valley would have echoed with the noise of machinery, carts and workers. Cheesden Valley became a significant centre for textile production during the Industrial Revolution, taking advantage of the fast flowing water that powered the mills long before electricity arrived.

Standing amongst the ruins, it is difficult to imagine the activity that once filled the area. Nature has slowly reclaimed much of the site. Trees now grow where machinery once stood and birds provide the soundtrack instead of steam engines.

Lunch was a highlight, although perhaps not for the reasons I expected.

I'd packed homemade ham sandwiches with slices so thick they could have doubled as building materials. To accompany them, I added a generous amount of English mustard. One bite later and my eyes were watering so much that anyone passing would have assumed I was having an emotional moment while contemplating Britain's industrial heritage.

I wasn't.

The mustard was simply winning.

Later, I stumbled across a small walled enclosure hidden away from the path. I have no idea what it was originally built for, but it made a perfect place to stop for a coffee and enjoy a few minutes of peace before continuing deeper into the valley.

My next stop was Deeply Vale Mill, part of the remarkable industrial expansion that transformed Lancashire during the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries. Water powered mills like these formed the backbone of Britain's textile industry and helped fuel the Industrial Revolution that changed the world.

The valley was perfectly suited to industry. Reliable streams powered waterwheels and the surrounding settlements provided a workforce. Today, only fragments remain, but there is still enough left to spark the imagination.

Eventually I reached Washwheel Chimney. Reached might be the wrong word. Stumbled is probably more accurate.

Several trees had come down during recent storms and negotiating them while carrying a camera bag turned into an impromptu flexibility test. There were moments when I questioned whether I should go over them, under them or simply turn around and pretend I'd never seen them. Somehow, my childbearing hips and I made it through.

The strangest discovery of the day, however, was a tree.

At first glance it looked normal enough, but when I looked closer, the trunk appeared to have trapped a face inside it. Not a happy face either. More the sort of expression that suggested somebody had been imprisoned in the tree for several centuries and was demanding to be released immediately.

Thankfully it was broad daylight.

Had I found it at dusk, I suspect my walk would have become considerably faster.

By the time I returned to the car, I'd photographed ruined mills, industrial relics, hidden corners of woodland and one apparently haunted tree. Not bad for a day that wasn't supposed to involve rain.

Cheesden Valley remains one of those places where history quietly hides amongst the trees. You just need to slow down and look carefully.

And perhaps apply slightly less English mustard to your sandwiches than I did.