Ulverston on a June day. Immediately after a dowsing in one of the rainstorms that have ended two solid months of sunshine and blue skies here in the extreme north-west of England.

It’s actually a pleasant change, though I have no desire to ‘hex’ the lovely summer we’re having.

We’re in Ulverston – a lovely market town that used to be in north Lancashire, but is now part of modern Cumbria. Ulverston is directly across Morecambe Bay from Morecambe.

Ulverston is a ‘working town’. It’s not twee, nor has it ever been viewed as a hippy location, but it does have an artistic and creative consciousness. Its roots are old industry on a small scale. It used to have a famous brewery: Hartleys, long absorbed into one of the faceless brewing combines and closed. It used to have a world-famous part of Astra Zeneca down by the old port at the end of the canal. But that was closed and its operations moved south (of course) in the name of profits, leaving hundreds of local workers bereft of employment.

These days, Ulverston has to fight for the stability of its existence… and it succeeds by being local to everyone.

This is the birthplace of Stan Laurel, of Laurel and Hardy fame. There’s something of their humour in the ‘hardy’ character of the place, as it continues to survive, and even prosper, in its own quiet way.

There is a Laurel and Hardy museum – well worth spending an hour, especially on a wet day… and, as with anywhere in Cumbria, there are lost of those.

The market brings in visitors, especially in the summer. It hosts dressing up festivals where many wear full Dickensian garb. There are music and literary weekends. But it does all of this on a scale that feels decidedly human – approachable and friendly.

It’s a pleasant place to be. And it has one of the best vegetarian cafe-restaurants in the region. We’ll get to that…

A friend staying with us wanted to visit one of the local specialist fabric and crafting shops – Ulverston has several. The rain had left everything with that ‘just washed’ smell and atmosphere. It was a good chance to stroll around and take some photographs. The ‘wet summer light’ was perfect.

I’ve always enjoyed exploring the small alleyways that cross-cross the centre of the place. They were not designed to be pretty; just evolved, organically, to get you past the main thoroughfares – if you knew where to find them.

I love the muted summer light of such times, just after a downpour. It’s much brighter than the light present in the short winter days, and it carries a certain ‘softness’, emphasising textures and reflections, and giving depth to shadows.

The photos were all taken in a single sequence along Lower Brook Street – an open space that becomes one of the longest alleys until it spills out into Union Street, from where Market Street – the centre of town – is accessible.

You can see from the photographs how much effort many of the residents put in to make the brief summer full of colour – even in this simple alleyway.

It’s a gesture (and hard work) that has always made me proud of the town. Its not unlike my home town, Bolton – which could well learn a lesson or two from its northern cousin.

Eventually, the ‘pretty’ dies down, and the bare stone ferries you to the end of the enclosed ‘cut’.

There, only yards away from where the alley emerges, is our destination: a late breakfast at Gillam’s famous vegetarian restaurant.

An hour later, we emerge; in my case full from one of the best cheese rarebits I’ve ever eaten. I’m not on commission, I just love it…and the rest of this place.

©Stephen Tanham 2023

Stephen Tanham is a Director of the Silent Eye, a journey through the forest of personality to the dawn of Being.

http://www.thesilenteye.co.uk and http://www.suningemini.blog