WITH Yorkshire Day now past, and the celebrations over for another year, I was interested to hear about a proposal that, within the county of Yorkshire, their own special day (which falls on August 1) should become a local bank holiday.

We do not make use of localised bank holidays in this country but if this did become a reality, then Wales could celebrate St David's Day (March 1) with its own bank holiday throughout the principality and perhaps England might consider such a holiday on St George's Day (April 23). I'm sure other areas could select their own suitable days.

As things are, our system of having bank holidays on the same day throughout the nation has become something of a liability. Everyone stops work and takes to the roads or airlines at the same time and the result is often congestion, confusion and sheer frustration.

In an effort to avoid this regular mayhem, there might be an argument for the total abolition of the traditional bank holidays; these days could be added to the annual holiday entitlement of employees who could then take them when they wished. I'm sure they would not all choose to do so at the same time.

This might be one way of alleviating the mounting frustration which bedevils our congested roads. People who, like me, live in tourist areas tend not to venture on the roads during bank holidays - heavy traffic, bad and inconsiderate drivers and hordes of caravans all combine to produce misery for all motorists.

Many of us prefer to stay at home to enjoy the sunshine in our gardens or take short walking trips into the immediate locality, and we venture further only when sanity and peace has returned to the countryside and the highways.

Whether or not the abolition of national bank holidays would alleviate this regular overcrowding of our honey-pot areas is a matter for discussion and consideration; whether or not localised bank holidays would offer a suitable alternative is another matter for discussion but I am reminded that, in the past, the people did not have holidays.

Instead, they had holy days, from which the name holiday is derived. These were often saints' days or other religious occasions and each parish would celebrate the feast day of its own patron saint, perhaps with fairs, outings and parties. There were other saints' days during the year when everyone went to mass - that was one reason for having a day off work. This, of course, was when England was a Catholic country.

If this system prevailed, some of us might go to Walton near Wetherby tomorrow to celebrate St Helen's Day at her well - she was the mother of the Roman emperor Constantine the Great. Swift Nick Nevison, the highwayman, once visited that well but fell asleep and was almost captured but he fooled the local men into releasing him. From that time, they became known as Walton Calves. Or we might celebrate St Oswin's Day on August 20 - Oswin ruled the kingdom of Deira which included the area now known as the North York moors, so we could honour him with an outing to the moors. So who needs bank holidays?

Bye bye blackbird

During the summer, we have been host to a pair of blackbirds who have nested nearby and who have paid regular visits to our garden. The female, identified by her brown plumage, has been rather more tame than her beau. On the very first day of her arrival, she turned up on our patio seeking titbits, and we obliged with pieces of apple or grapes. To acquire these, she would venture right beneath our chairs as we sat upon them, and showed very little fear of humans. Throughout the summer, she has kept us entertained and I believe she has reared a brood - a youngster was chirping in our garden only yesterday. But now she has gone, and I do not know where.

Her companion, a powerful male with a strong yellow beak and a capacity for producing exquisite music, was not quite so bold, although he did come to us for scraps, albeit preferring to remain at a discreet distance. Sometimes he accompanied the female, sometimes he came alone. He could be readily distinguished from other male blackbirds due to a slight deformity at the base of his beak, and also because some of his feathers contained traces of albinism - they revealed a few white patches. He has remained however, and seems not to have accompanied his mate.

He appeared on our garden wall a couple of days ago. We were having lunch on the patio and he announced his presence with a very hoarse and whispered attempt at producing his familiar song. It sounded as if he was miles away but in fact he was only a few yards from us, and when I responded to his call, I realised he was in a very frail and miserable condition. He looked dreadful. His feathers were sticking out at all angles, some were missing and he looked very weak.

Patches of white were showing on most of his body and he looked bedraggled and dirty; even his familiar distorted yellow beak looked stained. I rewarded him with a juicy grape which he took gratefully to enjoy in the safety of some shrubs.

At first glance, it seemed he had been attacked by something like a cat, having escaped with the loss of some feathers and damage to others, then I realised his true situation. He was moulting. I am sure he was miserable in the extreme and it is not without reason that birds, during this trying time, tend to hide themselves, not out of embarrassment but as a means of avoiding predators. During a moult, some birds can even lose the ability to fly.

Moulting, when the old feathers leave the bird's body and wings to make way for the new, is an essential stage in the well-being of any bird. It is nature's means by which their feathers are regularly replaced but there is no set pattern. The species all differ in their method and time of moulting, with some actually flying off to moulting grounds, others moulting while breeding, some migrating overseas to achieve it, and others, like our blackbird, suffering in near silence as he struggles to maintain his life-style.

The time it takes to shed the old feathers and grow the new ones can also vary between species. The blackcap, for example, takes about a month to produce a complete new set of feathers, while the raven needs up to five months, although some manage to squeeze their moults between migratory flights and breeding seasons. For some reason, the tiny willow warbler has two moults a year. I have not seen our blackbird since that day, but when I do, he may be sporting a smart new black suit.

Mapping it out

A friend has given me an old map of the North and East Ridings of Yorkshire, and like all maps, it is utterly fascinating. The snag is that I cannot accurately date this curio, except to say that the area it depicts would seem to be as it existed around the16th or 17th centuries.

The spellings of place names is part of its ancient charm. Wensleydale, for example, is Wensedale, Bedale is Bedall, Thirsk is Thruske, Ripon is Rippon, Middleham is Midlam, and Northallerton is N Alverton, although Richmond is spelt in the present fashion.

Most of the rivers and becks have the name flu after their name, for example, Humber Flu, Semer Flu, Marske Flu, Swail Flu and Youre Flu, and some of the villages have delightful variations on their present names. There are too many to list here, but a few are: Aynderbve, Aperside for Apperset and Butterside for Burtersett with Catterick being shown under its Roman name of Caturactonium.

There is a small plan of Richmond with a note depicting "a vault that goeth under the river and ascendeth up into the castle," but instead of dividing the counties into districts, this map shows them as wapentakes. This is a division of a county and the name seems to have been used in some northern counties, possibly deriving from the Norse vapnatak, which implied the taking of weapons.

In the south, similar divisions were known as hundreds and these comprised a group of villages in which about a hundred families lived, or they might embrace an area of a hundred hides.

I think my map dates to about 1600 because it is signed John Speede, and in 1577, Burtersett was called Butterside; Apperset was known as Aperside in both 1577 and 1610. Conspicuous by their absence, however, are roads!