Dent Dale, Latitude: 54° 30' 8.35" N, is located in the Yorkshire Dales National Park; part of the West Riding of Yorkshire until 1974, when county boundaries were changed, and overnight it found itself in Cumbria; much to the chagrin of many a proud Yorkshireman and woman. It’s a place of outstanding and breathtaking beauty, combining history and mystery, with its links to Jamacia and the slave trade. It was also the location for my family holidays for more than 40 years.

Farms, small holdings and cottages sit at various points along the dale, some high on the hillside, others nestled into the side of lanes, looking as if they have just sprung up from the ground. Their names often reflect their purpose, location or family ownership. For example, Mill Cottage, Woman’s Land, Cage Farm; and our cottage, Low Ground, built into and below the land, at low ground. Stone steps lead up to the lane, which have been worn away by the feet of the previous generations. It’s safe and snug, neat and squat, and I love it!

Many of these buildings are whitewashed, with small, mullioned windows, the dated lintel stones indicating the century in which they were built. History is soaked into their walls, bearing witness to dramas, feuds and all the intrigue that abounds in this ancient place.

The River Dee flows through the dale, bringing energy, as it tumbles, rushes, and meanders through the limestone, carving deep ravines, spectacular waterfalls and deep pools. There are shallower spaces too, where cattle and sheep come to drink. It was in one of these places, where the beck runs slowly where we would play. Paddling, throwing stones or searching for fossils. If I was lucky, I would find a piece of Dent marble, a form of black limestone, containing the fossilised remains of the sea creatures which swam here millions of years ago. The Dee eventually leads to the Irish Sea, miles away but its origins are here, where it continually shapes the landscape above and below the ground.

The fields form a patchwork of colours and textures; pastures, hay meadows, moorland and fellside. Drystone walls divide the land, they run straight and true, stretching for miles, up, over, across and around, separating farms from common grazing sites, bridlepaths and footpaths. They are feats of engineering, art forms and a living history for farming families. Built from stones of different sizes, they narrow at the top and are finished with copping stones, giving these glorious boundaries their unique appearance. Covered in moss and lichen, they are a home for insects and tiny scurrying creatures, and provide shelter from the wind, rain and snow for man and beast alike.

Nighttime has its own magic. Quiet, still and possibly unnerving. The sky, an inky black, unpolluted by artificial lights. And, if you are very lucky, you may be rewarded by a shooting star spectacular when stars cross the sky, appearing and disappearing, their tails alight with silver.

Over the years its changed, the same but different, strange yet familiar, it continues to provide a balm for my soul, giving a sense of peace and belonging. It’s more than a landscape, it’s beyond special, it’s Dent, location: 54° 30' 8.35" N.

Wendy Smith MBE