Situated on the North East Coast at the mouth of the River Esk, the picturesque maritime town of Whitby is steeped in history and legend. It is a photographer's delight, offering a variety of locations all within a short walking distance.
The ruins of Whitby's Abbey dominate the town's skyline. Founded in 657 AD by St Hilda, the abbey was to host an important meeting of leading churchmen and nobles to decide on a formula to determine the date of the moveable feast of Easter. The Synod of Whitby was to become a significant landmark in the history of the Church of England.
St Mary's church and graveyard are perched on the East Cliff next to the abbey. The graves lie in asymmetric patterns, their weather-ravaged headstones battling to stay upright against the storms blown off the North Sea.
Setting up my camera in the cold darkness of the predawn for a sunrise shot of the abbey. It is all too easy to imagine a schooner helmed by the unseeing eyes of a corpse entering the harbour in the teeth of a storm and running aground on the sands just below the East Cliff. A black dog jumps ship and runs up the 199 steps to the graveyard where I now stand. After all, Whitby is the birthplace of Bram Stoker's Dracula.
Situated on the North East Coast at the mouth of the River Esk, the picturesque maritime town of Whitby is steeped in history and legend. It is a photographer's delight, offering a variety of locations all within a short walking distance.
The ruins of Whitby's Abbey dominate the town's skyline. Founded in 657 AD by St Hilda, the abbey was to host an important meeting of leading churchmen and nobles to decide on a formula to determine the date of the moveable feast of Easter. The Synod of Whitby was to become a significant landmark in the history of the Church of England.
St Mary's church and graveyard are perched on the East Cliff next to the abbey. The graves lie in asymmetric patterns, their weather-ravaged headstones battling to stay upright against the storms blown off the North Sea.
Setting up my camera in the cold darkness of the predawn for a sunrise shot of the abbey. It is all too easy to imagine a schooner helmed by the unseeing eyes of a corpse entering the harbour in the teeth of a storm and running aground on the sands just below the East Cliff. A black dog jumps ship and runs up the 199 steps to the graveyard where I now stand. After all, Whitby is the birthplace of Bram Stoker's Dracula.
