Janet's Foss

After briefly slipping into winter yesterday, we return to autumn, when a week or two ago I had a really lovely walk up at Malham. It is always busy there but, midweek on a day with a not-so-good weather forecast, it was not too busy. In fact I almost turned back on the way as there were road signs saying the approach road was closed, but I stopped for a coffee in Airton and the lady serving said: 'Oh, just ignore the signs, they're to stop it getting overcrowded. You'll be alright today.' And I was. And the weather was better than forecast too. 

The iconic walk is: Janet's Foss to Gordale and then over the hill to Malham Cove and back down to Malham village, so that's the way I went.  Janet's Foss is a waterfall where Gordale Back tumbles into a pretty little pool. Often it's a mere trickle but after a day or two of heavy rain there was more water coming down than I've ever seen before. 

It gets its name from Jennet, queen of the fairies, who is said to live in a cave behind the falls. 

First snow!

Storm Arwen brought high winds and snow to Scotland and the north of England over the weekend. It appeared that we had missed the worst of it here but on Sunday morning it started to snow and by mid-afternoon a covering had settled, even in the valley. Some of us still get a little bit excited by snow since it is a relatively rare occurrence here these days. When the blizzard abated I went out for a short walk, ostensibly to post some letters. It was quite pretty everywhere so I walked a little further into the village centre with my phone and took a few photos. The snow was already starting to disappear where people had walked and overnight it will be icy. It's impossible to predict whether that will be our only snowfall of the winter or the precursor of much more. Either way, it's nice to capture the moments in a few photos. 

Tales of the unexpected

I enjoyed a random kind of wander around Bradford recently, taking in the Cathedral and the area known as Little Germany. There, in the 1850s, wealthy and influential German wool merchants, attracted by the thriving textile industry in this area, built their offices and warehouses in an elaborate neoclassical style. Some of the buildings have now been converted for residential use and attempts have been made to preserve the area and attract arts-based organisations. At various times, street artworks have been added - both 'official' and 'unofficial'. 

You really wonder what you're going to find round the next corner - from the sculpture called 'Grandad's Clock and Chair' by Timothy Shutter (street furniture of the best kind!) to Samson in the temple of Dagon (I guess!)....

A nice googly-eyed door:

A portrait of Bradford born artist, David Hockney, made entirely of nails:

and, in the Cathedral, a tiny 'green man' in the stonework under the pulpit. 

 

Autumn riches

Autumn came slowly this year, with a whispering softness that at first made me impatient and then eventually beguiled me. The woodland below the old limestone quarry between Langcliffe and Stainforth was full of subtle colour. 

By contrast, trees in the nearby market town of Settle were bolder: copper, gold, russet and orange glowing beautifully in the sunshine.

The old bridge

I've shown this bridge, along the canal in Shipley, before. I think it's a good subject for photos, with its sweeping curves and all the different textures of the water, foliage, stonework and setts (the large cobbles that surface the pathway). It looks good in mono but in this picture I wanted to retain the russet beech leaves in their autumn glory.

Bridge number 208 on the Leeds-Liverpool Canal, it's known as Junction Bridge. It dates back to 1774, when the Bradford Branch canal was opened here, an offshoot of the main canal that allowed boats to travel right down into the industrial heart of Bradford. The bridge allowed horses towing boats to pass from one canal towpath to the other. Beset with problems due to the water quality, the Bradford canal was declared a public health hazard and closed in 1866; reopening, with an improved water supply four years later, it finally closed in 1922 and has since been filled in. 

Walking home

Warm autumn colours, the familiar (and, to me, almost comforting) monolith of Salts Mill chimney, standing guard over the mill and the village - and a lush, late afternoon sky.  Almost home, ready for a cup of tea... aah. 

Woodland oddities

Deep in the dark wood, you sometimes come across trees that appear to be frozen in the act of being something else....      A parrot swooping down to a slender birch tree....

Or two brothers squaring up for a fight...  

Or a long-limbed dancer....

Or some kind of squirming, many-tentacled, sea creature, perhaps.  

Then again, perhaps I'd just overdosed on magic mushrooms in the forest: 

Ashley Wharf

A busy scene but quite a pleasant view... This is Ashley Wharf visitor moorings on the Leeds-Liverpool Canal just beyond Saltaire, on the way into Shipley. 

Even this late in the season there are still a lot of boats on the move on the canal. The outer one of these two appeared to be a small cargo-carrying vessel. At one time, of course, the canal was an important artery for commerce, moving goods between our towns and cities and connecting with Liverpool's docks. As the railways and roads took over, canal traffic dwindled, leaving the waterways to be explored solely by leisure craft. It seems that a few more freight boats are now creeping back, though there are several obstacles to this becoming a significant enterprise, not least the fact that much of the canalside warehousing infrastructure has been lost or converted for residential use.

The impossibility of it

Even in a less than spectacular year, colourwise, I still have a compulsion to immerse myself in the glory of our autumn woodlands and to try to capture the beauty with my camera. It's a bit like bluebells in the spring, where no photo ever seems adequate to convey the full depth of the hues or the sublime beauty of the sweeps of colour, the myriad different tones, the way the changing light affects the scene. That's even before you recall the associated scents and sounds, which can't be reproduced visually. Oh, the impossibility of it! Yet I keep trying. 

St Anne's Hospital, Appleby

A low arched doorway off Appleby's Boroughgate leads you almost back in time to a bygone age. This is St Anne's Hospital, not a hospital in our modern sense of the word but a quadrangle of cottages built as almshouses by Lady Anne Clifford for poor widows and spinsters. There are thirteen of them, one being slightly larger and set aside for 'the Mother', the 17th century equivalent of a sheltered housing scheme warden. They date back to 1653 and have seen only minor alterations since that time. Endowed by Lady Anne, who designated the proceeds of one of her farms for their upkeep, they still house elderly single women, who are expected to adhere to the spirit of the rules set over 350 years ago. They have their own garden at the rear with the cottages arranged around a communal courtyard.

The building style is the local vernacular red sandstone with slate roofs, very attractive, with some nice little details.  

In one corner is a small chapel, still with its 17th century fixtures, the walls decorated with Biblical texts. Residents are still encouraged to attend services there. 

It is all absolutely charming, though I can't imagine what it must be like living there, with a constant stream of tourists and photographers disturbing their peace. 

 

Appleby church

St Lawrence's Church, Appleby-in-Westmorland, lies at the bottom of the wide main street, close to the Moot Hall and separated from the town by cloisters (a covered walkway). The church itself, dating in part from about 1150, seemed quite long. I couldn't get the whole in one frame and I had to do a panorama photo. So it's not as wonky as it appears above!

Built of the local warm red sandstone, it is rather a lovely building, restored and partially rebuilt in 1655 by Lady Anne Clifford, a redoubtable noblewoman with links to Skipton and many other places in northern England, and who lived some of the time in nearby Appleby Castle. She died in 1676 (according to most records, though her tomb appears to say 1675) and is buried in the church, alongside her mother. Her tomb (below), which she herself had made before she died, has a reredos with family shields. The feisty Lady Anne Clifford is something of a heroine of mine. You can read a bit about her in an earlier post I wrote,  HERE. You can even read some of her diaries (see HERE). 

In the churchyard I was mildly amused, for some reason, by the line of cones. I feel sure there's a good caption in there somewhere, though I haven't quite found it yet. 

Appleby-in-Westmorland

It was a dull, chilly day but I still enjoyed exploring the small market town of Appleby-in-Westmorland in Cumbria. Sitting between the Pennine hills and the Lake District fells, it was originally the county town of the historic county of Westmorland. It has the tell-tale features of a town with Norman origins: a castle, a church, a market place and a single main street, which would probably have had crofts (homesteads) on either side. The wide main street, Boroughgate, is marked by a column (cross) at either end. The High Cross (shown above) dates from the 17th century and is inscribed: 'Retain your loyalty; preserve your rights'. An avenue of lime trees shades the properties on either side, some of which date back to the 17th century, and beyond them there are the little alleyways and mews characteristic of our old villages and towns.     

The town is on the famous Settle-Carlisle railway line, so a rail journey to Appleby is a real treat, passing through stunning countryside and over the iconic Ribblehead Viaduct. 

The bottom of Boroughgate has the old Moot Hall, built in 1596 as an assembly room where local matters were decided. It was swathed in scaffold and tarps, undergoing repairs, so I didn't take a photo. At the south end lies Appleby Castle, historic home of Lady Anne Clifford. The keep dates back to Norman times and reflects a time when there were many battles in these parts between the English and the Scots. 

The River Eden cradles the town in a huge meandering loop and there are some lovely woodland walks. 

The local stone is sandstone, giving rise to some attractive russet-coloured buildings, and evidence of dwellings and storage rooms within the rock. I particularly liked this old, weathered door and the red creepers hanging down. 

 

Soft autumn

Some autumns are a strident blaze of colour, like the year's last hurrah before the winter chill. This year so far it has been different, around here at least - much softer and more muted. I rather enjoyed trying to capture some of that softness with my camera.  

'Is not this a true autumn day? Just the still melancholy that I love - that makes life and nature harmonise.'    George Eliot. 

 

Saltaire by night

Here are a couple more pictures I took when I went out on a night shoot in Saltaire recently, though I was rapidly running out of 'blue hour', when the sky still has some colour. (Entirely my own fault, as I wasted precious minutes having to run back home to collect a new camera battery, as I'd forgotten to take a spare. Rookie error!)

A few of the lamps on the church drive were not working, so I decided a non-symmetrical composition was required. I enjoyed the shadows of the gates enlivening the foreground and leading you in to the picture.  

The picture below is the floodlit central upper frontage of Shipley College's main building, formerly the Factory Schools that were originally opened in 1868. Under the bell tower is the Salt family's coat of arms and two alpacas, whose wool provided the basis of Sir Titus's fortune. 

Timble Ings autumn

Some camera club buddies recommended the woodland of Timble Ings, near Otley, as a good location for autumn colour.  I'd never been before and really needed a guide (or boy scout - Bear Grylls perhaps?) to ensure that I didn't wander round in circles during my adventure. My sense of direction is not always the best!  'I am not lost for I know where I am; but, however, where I am may be lost.' as Winnie-the-Pooh once said.  I did, eventually, get back to the car and came away with a crop of quite nice autumnal shots.