Nay, the stillness of such a night, far more than the wild wailings of the rushing blast, is instinct with the wisht, weird creatures of the imagination; far too much so for the superstitious or fancy-led to be able to feel themselves alone; and more so yet to one fairly cognisant of his inner life and its connections. And the sea, even at a distance, is a creature – a being – full of a great vitality, and with many voices; and by aid of one of them at least, whatever the mood of the listener, there is an inner and most real communion with the unseen.
(Atkinson/Parish)
It is loveliest here just before darkness comes, when shapes are softened in the evening light, and the moor seems to draw the road back to itself in sleep; but local people advise you not to stay too long on the moor at this time, for there are ghosts of more than Romans on it. Hob comes out to haunt the becks and bogs in a wraith of mist, and utters a peculiar cry which is not lucky for men to hear.
(Pontefract/Tour)
THE NORTH RIDING PROJECT 
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