Sheriff Hutton Castle, dawn

Sheriff Hutton castle dominates the village, almost as much as its Norman builders intended it to when it was built in 13-something-or-other.  I guess back then it was a symbol of oppression, looming over the cottages of the peasants, and visible for many miles across the Vale of York.

Now it's a ruin, but still quite a landmark and an obvious subject to try to photograph, but tricky: it's on a little hill, as castles tend to be, so one is always looking up at it, rendering it in silhouette against the sky.

Here it is at dawn this morning; just a hint of colour in the sky as the sun rises behind it.  This silhouettes the castle to the camera, although the eye still picks out detail in the shadow.  So to make a photo that matches my perception I've done a little HDR work.

We don't know that much about the castle's history, although apparently Richard III ("Richard of York") used it as one of the headquarters of his Council of the North.  York's a dozen miles away - an easy commute on horseback*, and Sheriff is handy for days out hunting.  

Perhaps this was the tower where the princes were kept locked away?  And maybe Sheriff Hutton should be Richard's final resting place?

For now, its residents are only the jackdaws, always present and always squabbling, and the quieter pigeons - unless you count the retired folk who now inhabit the converted farm buildings at its foot.

*We underestimate how much time people of the past spent travelling.  It's documented that a beacon was kept burning on one of the castle's towers in medieval times, so that castle residents or guests who'd been out clubbing (or whatever the contemporary equivalent was) in York could find their way back at night as they staggered through the Forest of Galtres that then filled the land between York and Sheriff.  But that's a ten-mile walk!  Nonetheless, folk of the day clearly did it, and regularly.