THE NORTH RIDING PROJECT

All that was everyday, commonplace, dull, was refined, all that was worn and faded was renewed and glorified; and not a thing left to remind us of the old, the worn, the faded, or the unbeautiful.  At my feet and before me was, as it were, a carpet, hundred-piled, of the richest brown, such shades as I had never seen nor imagined; the greens of the valleys were become the greens – and only there seen – of the sky in a gorgeous sunset; the fields and sheets of bracken were spaces of “old gold“ and burnished gold, and all the great space behind was in vast expanses of richest purple gorgeous with heaven’s own perfect bloom.

Atkinson/Parish, 1891