Malham Tarn palette

I love colour and find I'm craving it at this time of year. It's fun to extract some of the colours in images into a 'colour palette' like I've done here. It's a long time since I tried this but I quite like the effect. These shades are quite subtle. 

Tarn Moss Bog

The western side of Malham Tarn (see also yesterday) is bounded by a large area of wet woodland and domed peat bog, an unusual and precious habitat known as Tarn Moss. The juxtaposition of the alkaline lake and acid peat allows for a wide and rich variety of plant, insect, aquatic and bird life, some of it quite rare. It has been extensively researched, thanks to the nearby Field Studies Centre. There is a boardwalk through the bog so that visitors can see it at close hand (whilst staying safe, with dry feet!)  At this time of year, of course, there is not much for a non-specialist visitor to spot; it all looks dead and decaying. Personally, I loved the soft colours and enjoyed wandering through and finding a few photographic compositions.

As part of the ongoing management of this protected and precious area, they have recently brought in four hardy Exmoor ponies, who browse on the invasive plant species and help to keep the fens healthy. (See HERE for an article about the ponies.)

Malham Tarn

I was shocked to realise that it's eight years since I last went to Malham Tarn, which is surprising given how often I've been to Malham itself. It's not really far from the village, up beyond Malham Cove, but the landscape is bleaker: moorland and sheep pastures. During the 18th century the surrounding area was mined for lead and copper, and there are a few remnants from that time, including a smelt mill flue chimney. It is, however, a very peaceful landscape nowadays. 

The tarn itself is something of a rarity, the highest marl lake in the UK, at 1237 ft above sea level. Water rarely stays above ground in these porous limestone areas but the lake was carved out by a glacier in the ice age, which scraped down to an underlying slate layer and then, as the ice melted, dropped glacial moraine to effectively seal off the lake. It drains via a small stream (photo below) that then disappears underground. When the water resurfaces beyond Malham it forms the source of the River Aire. 

It is now in the care of The National Trust, which until recently leased out Tarn House (on the far shore, below) as a Field Studies Centre, though that may now have closed. The area is a National Nature Reserve, and the circular walk round the lake and through the peat bog on a boardwalk is a really lovely and quite gentle (flat) walk. 

Sunbeams

Walking back to Malham village down Gordale Lane, there was a really spectacular sky. The sun's rays were piercing through gaps in the cloud to illuminate the land and give that scattered, curtain effect. I've always thought these were 'crepuscular rays' and I think they are often loosely called that, though crepuscular properly relates only to sunrise and sunset when the sun is below the horizon. 

The effect was very clear to see but proves to be harder to capture in a photo. I've tried to process these images to emphasise them. 

Subtle beauty - and silhouettes

As the cloud cover increased towards the end of the afternoon around Malham, I was captivated both by the scenery, the sky and my camera's struggle to make sense of the changing light. 

Soft processing brings out some subtle, gentle colours in the scrubby vegetation (above), trees shallowly rooted in the thin, rocky soil. I also loved that line of molehills near the trees, imagining Mr Mole toiling along his tunnel, muttering under his breath. It must have been hard work! 

Looking up towards the bright sky tricked the camera into underexposure and created some evocative silhouettes of the scree-covered hillsides and trees:

Janet's Foss and Gordale Scar

Gordale Beck falls prettily over a band of tufa rock into a circular pool. It's really attractive, both the way the cascade tumbles down and the pool itself, which in good light is a clear, soft, aqua turquoise colour. There are small caves in the rock, said to be inhabited by 'Jennet, Queen of the Fairies' - not that I've ever seen her. For those with time to spare, there's an interesting article HERE by a blogger who at one time lived in Malham and has researched the legend. 

Looking back the way I walked in, the rocky sides of the gorge rise above the stream as it trickles down. 

Out beyond the gorge the valley opens out and then narrows again at the spectacular ravine of Gordale Scar, where the overhanging limestone cliffs are over 330 feet high. There is another double cascade, which in theory you can climb. You can perhaps see a couple of lads and a dog attempting the climb but it was very wet and slippery on the tufa and they didn't get all the way to the top.  

The ravine was probably formed by water from melting glaciers at the end of the Ice Age, which carved out caverns and potholes that run through and under the limestone in this area. It's likely that a cavern collapsed here, to form the gorge. It is breathtaking scenery. People come from all over to see it and it has featured in poems, paintings and films. 

Malham - again

The best laid plans... I had decided to go Stainforth to visit the waterfalls near there but just outside Gargrave there was a sign, helpfully informing that the main A65 was closed at Long Preston, with a diversion in place. I didn't fancy sitting in a traffic jam so, although such signs often turn out to be about mythical closures, I diverted instead to Malham, an equally enjoyable destination. It was - for Malham - distinctly unbusy and the weather was chilly but fair. Despite having been there relatively recently, I had a most pleasant walk up the stream to Gordale Scar. 

I often end up photographing the same scenes (though I suppose they are never quite 'the same' every time). There's a pretty little waterfall in the stream that always catches my eye. I think it's something about its curve as well as the water frothing over. My photo hasn't really captured how clear the water is around here, filtered down through the limestone rock. 

A little further on, you come to a pretty, stone barn - which I didn't photograph in its entirety this time but which I have often snapped on previous visits (see below, last autumn). 

I stopped to admire a really old doorway into the barn; 1755 by its date stone, which I've never really noticed before. I just loved the weathered stone and wood. 

Just outside there are a couple of old agricultural implements, abandoned to rust. I couldn't even tell what this one was, it was so overgrown with grass. It pleases me to think of the history round here, farmers and agricultural labourers ekeing out a living on the sparse grasslands, keeping a few sheep, maybe a cow or two and cutting hay for the cattle and horses. Many of my ancestors were 'ag labs' in Lincolnshire in the 18th and early 19th centuries so, for me, there's a visceral link with the countryside. It's 'in my blood', I guess.  

Beyond the barn, the track enters a narrow wooded gorge, which ends at the waterfall known as Janet's Foss. Here, again, there were quite a few fallen trees, no doubt casualties of the dry summer in 2022. Their roots don't go deep in this rocky terrain and if the soil is too dry they are prone to topple. 

Malham village

Here are a few phone shots from around Malham village. The decorative bird boxes made a colourful sight on the wall of a house. Not sure if birds ever use them... I imagine it's the kind of collection that, once you start it, people keep gifting you more! Talking of birds, we saw a huge flock of goldfinches on our walk. They were feeding on meadowsweet seed heads and all flew up at our approach. A flock of goldfinches is known as a 'charm', and very charming they were. 

Malham Beck runs right past this house on its way from the base of the Cove. There is a ford and a clapper bridge, an ancient walkway from one side of the village to the other.  

Malham still retains a red telephone box - and it seemed to be useable for its original purpose and not converted to house a defibrillator or a little library, as some have been. 

The Beck Inn welcomes walkers and dogs - even, thankfully, those who arrive dripping wet from an autumn downpour! 

Around Malham

I arranged to meet up with a good friend of long-standing in Malham recently. He's Dutch and was over here on a cycling trip through the Yorkshire Dales. We couldn't work out how long it is since we last saw each other but it must be at least ten years. As with most of those precious old friendships, we managed quite quickly to slot back in to an easy chat about this and that. Thankfully his command of English is (has always been) superb - since my command of Dutch is non-existent! 

Our drought is over... We decided to walk along the river to Janet's Foss. We started in glorious sunshine and then, when we arrived at the falls, it decided to chuck it down, torrential rain! So it was two very wet people who eventually made it back to the pub for a late lunch. (Note to self: my walking shoes are NOT waterproof, neither are my thicker walking trousers. I need to invest in some new waterproof trousers.)

I didn't take my camera, as I knew I'd be too busy chatting to stop for many photos, but the light was lovely and I did manage a few phone snaps before and after the rain. 

Janet's Foss has, no doubt, been a mere trickle all summer but a few days of heavy rain soon replenishes our upland streams and the falls were a roaring cascade.  

The first photo, at the top, is Malham Cove itself, from beside the road at the top of the village. We didn't walk all the way over to the Cove but occasionally a bit of light picked out the huge, curving rock face quite dramatically. 

Malham Cove

And so to the wonder that is Malham Cove... My route took me around the back of the cove and then down the steep steps to its left. There is a large area of limestone pavement up at the top, but I know from past experience that it can be slippery and treacherous - and these days I am keen to avoid twisted ankles or anything worse, so I avoided most of that, though it is an interesting landscape feature. 

The Cove is a large, curving limestone cliff, formed by a waterfall of glacial meltwater more than 12,000 years ago. Nowadays the water of Malham Beck erupts from the base of the cliff, seeping down through the porous limestone. Eventually it becomes the River Aire and ends up flowing through Saltaire. 

Moving closer to the cliff face, you can see climbers about halfway up, where there is a ledge that allows access. It must be a difficult climb, with a large overhang at the top. Peregrine falcons breed here too, during the summer, so some of the climbing routes are out of bounds from March to at least the end of July. It's heart-stopping stuff to watch the climbers! 

 

Gordale Scar

Beyond Janet's Foss (see yesterday) the route to Malham Cove branches off at Gordale Bridge, following the Dales Highway long distance path. Most people, however, make a detour further up the valley first, to see Gordale Scar, a deep limestone gorge with two waterfalls and overhanging limestone cliffs over 330 feet high. It's a pleasant walk, especially when the beck is flowing fast, as it was the day I was there. The water is really clear and has lovely turquoise and amber tints. 

The Gordale falls tumble down a huge drop. It looks relatively unimpressive in my photo (below), since there is nothing to give it scale. Sometimes there are visitors scrambling over the rocks but the beck was too full to allow that. If I say that about ten people standing on each other's shoulders might just reach from the base of main cascade, in the middle of the photo on the right, to the lip of the rock, that might help you visualise how big it is. 

Much of the rock around the falls is tufa: dissolved limestone precipitated out of the water onto the surrounding rocks. 

Backtracking down to the main path, I then climbed over to Malham Cove, where the Dales Highway and the Pennine Way briefly share the same route northwest before diverging again. 

The views from up here are stunning. A track leads down into the village of Malham, among the trees, with a sightline right over towards Pendle Hill in Lancashire, on the horizon. 

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.