Barkbooth Lot, Cumbria, Spring
It was time to capture the last of this year’s bluebells.
It was time to capture the last of this year’s bluebells.
We’re fortunate in Cumbria to have quite a few options when it comes to photographing glorious bluebell displays. On this occasion we decided to revisit a local favourite that also—coincidentally—tends to be quiet: Barkbooth Lot.
Upon arrival it turns out that we were maybe slightly past Peak Bluebell, at least in Barkbooth Lot. Nevertheless, the light was lovely and the woodland is always a joy to gently wander around and find compositions to play with.
All photos taken on my Sony α7ii using my Sony FE 28–70mm f3.5–5.6 OSS zoom and Rokinon 14mm f2.8 ED AS IF UMC prime lenses. RAWs developed in Lightroom for iPad, then edited and finalised in Affinity Photo 2 for iPad.
Barkbooth Lot, Cumbria, Spring by Ian Cylkowski is licensed under CC BY-NC-SA 4.0
Soft woodland light highlights the limestone remnants, moss, and of course the bluebells in this delicious scene.
On the edge of the woods, this dead tree being consumed by vines provides an excellent subject.
The way through the woodlands, across the beck. Like a scene from a timeless fantasy novel.
A patch of bluebells enjoy the shade will unfurling ferns reach up to the morning light.
A trio (tree-oh?) or trees provide a simplified composition, with bluebells surrounding them.
A fallen tree shelters the carpet of bluebells.
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Barkbooth Lot, Lake District, Spring
Welcome back to Barkbooth Lot!
Welcome back to Barkbooth Lot!
We're starting to see those beautiful bluebells appearing in woodlands across Cumbria now, so over the weekend we enjoyed a wander around our new favourite bluebell spot, Barkbooth Lot.
There's another good three weeks or so before all the bluebells are fully out and in their prime, but the sights were still glorious. Plus, it were a bonny day. Why not get out and enjoy it?
All photos shot on my Fujifilm X-T2 using two of my prime lenses: a Fujinon 23mm f/2.0, and an adapted Pentax SMC 55mm f/2.0. Images developed using RNI Films' Portra 400 film emulation.
The way into the woodland is clear and immediately we can see that the bluebells were out.
The late afternoon light was absolutely crackin'.
A survivor from Storm Arwen. Lots of other trees weren't so lucky.
Fantastic shapes, like two dancers in the sunlight.
Two trees share a trail of bluebells between them.
There's so many more bluebells to come in the next couple of weeks.
This way for more bluebells.
Ferns unfurling. A sign that summer is coming.
Some of the casualties from Storm Arwen.
Down at the gentle beck, gurgling its way through the woodland.
Forest bathing is a true healing salve for the soul.
A remnant from an older storm.
Probably one of my favourite shots from the whole walk.
Torn in half. The sheer force of Storm Arwen.
Out onto the fell side of Barkbooth Lot, the Lyth Valley fells in the distance.
Barkbooth Lot, Lake District, Spring
If you thought there were a lot of bluebells in Staveley…
If you thought there were a lot of bluebells in Staveley…
We’re in peak bluebell season in Cumbria now. Normally, if you think bluebells and the Lake District, you might be tempted to head straight to Rannerdale. This is a rather famous little valley, branching off from the middle of Crummock Water, where during spring the valley floor erupts in a carpet of bluebells. Being surrounded on all sides by the craggy fells of Lorton Vale, it’s quite a sight. It’s also increasingly popular, and keeping people off the bluebells is becoming problematic.
Instead, Lisabet suggested we revisit a nearby favourite of ours, Barkbooth Lot, managed by the Cumbria Wildlife Trust. This is a little woodland, and open fell, just north of Bowland Bridge in the Lyth Valley, west of Kendal. The last time we visited, a couple of years ago in March/April, it was a very hot day and there were daffodils aplenty.
By the time we arrived this time, the daffodils had long disappeared for the year. Instead, the woods were absolutely crammed with bluebells.
No matter which direction we looked, bluebells everywhere. It was wonderful.
I hope these photos convey even a modicum of the wonder I experienced.
All photos shot on my Fujifilm X-T2 using two prime lenses: a Samyang 35mm f/1.2, and a Laowa 9mm f/2.8. The photos were 80% developed in-camera using a customised Velvia film simulation, with small edits later made in Lightroom and Affinity Photo.
Into the woods we go, with gorgeous evening light beaming through the trees. Already, we’re seeing lots of bluebells.
Just a mini-scene of gorgeous evening light, bluebells, shooting ferns, and tree roots.
A solitary tree catches the golden light in a sea of bluebells.
A fallen tree trunk provides a playground of compositions for me, with this one ultimately being my favourite.
Just… a wonderful scene, and a ridiculous amount of bluebells.
Deeper into the woods, and seemingly no end in sight of all the bluebells.
My lovely Lisabet, just taking it all in.
The ferns are at that wonderful stage where they’re beginning to shoot up, unfurl, and change colour from orange to green.
Interlocking trees amongst a carpet of bluebells.
“Boss! Tree’s fallen across t’path.” “Just cut reet through it.” “Reet you are.”
Despite the beauty of bluebells everywhere and glorious evening light, I found this tree rather creepy.
A pair of tree trunks that put me in mind of a tuning fork.
The woodland opens up a little more as we near the end of the loop.
She glows.
Foulshaw Moss, Lake District, Spring
Foulshaw Moss is a pretty cool place. It’s a raised bog, named so because this type of bog rises in height over time as a result of peat formation.
A few days after my 36th birthday, back in 2019, my Dad came up to stay with us (he wasn’t living in Cumbria at the time). One of the places we explored with him was Foulshaw Moss, a raised bog just south of the imposing Whitbarrow Scar. We explored the area and took photos; at the time, I was mainly shooting on my Google Pixel 3XL with a shiny new Moment 18mm Wide v2 lens I’d got for my birthday.
A year and a few weeks on we visited Foulshaw Moss again, this time under totally different circumstances.
To accommodate social distancing measures due to the Coronavirus, the Cumbria Wildlife Trust (who manage the area) have blocked off certain dog-legs of the trail and turned it into a one-way route, encouraging people to keep their distance from each other.
On our visit we only saw one other man, who was busy bird spotting.
Foulshaw Moss is a pretty cool place. It’s a raised bog, named so because this type of bog rises in height over time as a result of peat formation. They’re very rare in Britain as historically they’re usually drained and used for planting trees. As raised bogs are acidic and wet habitats, their environment tends to encourage more unusual flora and fauna that can cope with the conditions.
In 2010 the Cumbria Wildlife Trust reintroduced a rare dragonfly to the site, the White-faced darter (Leucorrhinia dubia). In 2014 a pair of Ospreys nested at Foulshaw Moss, and have returned every year since. Hides have been erected at various points along the boardwalk trail for visitors to view the Ospreys through telescopes.
My lovely Lisabet, phone in hand ready to capture some minutiae she spots. In the distance is the south face of Whitbarrow Scar.
A pair of silver birch trees, standing out from the bog.
A young sapling reach for the sun.
A large part of Foulshaw Moss consists of this watery “graveyard” of silver birch, looking like brush strokes on a canvas.
A young rowan sapling, Sorbus aucuparia. In times gone by twigs from this tree were used to drive cattle to the pasture for the first time in spring to ensure their health and fertility.
There’s also plenty of bulrush, or Typha latifolia, in the bogs of Foulshaw Moss. By the time we saw them their heads had erupted, leaving these fluffy cotton-like tails everywhere.
Also in abundance—sprouting from the carcasses of various birch trees—is Fomes fomentarius, or the Hoof Fungus (you can see why). It’s apparently very useful as a tinder to start fires. Who knew?
The road back to Whitbarrow Scar, one of the biggest limestone escarpements in the Lyth Valley.
A solitary Scots Pine, Pinus sylvestris.
The open and expansive part of Foulshaw Moss. No blue skies on this day, in fact totally matte with clouds. On the right you can see a familiar resident of acidic bogs: cottongrass, or Eriophorum.
The only bird hide left open to accommodate social distancing measures.