Janet’s Foss and the Money Trees

Sometimes you see an intriguing sign and you just have to follow it... 

Curiosity got the better of me and so over towards Janets Foss I headed. The path lies on the edge of the village of Malham in Yorkshire. I'd stayed overnight at Beck Hall - a quaint and very old B&B standing alongside the babbling beck and so set off early before the crowds arrived. The substantial full English breakfast - minus the black pudding - had fuelled me ready for walking. 

This is a shallow crossing point for cattle. The presence of water hints at what lies further up stream. 

The neat path leads through kissing gates and  runs alongside farmland with grazing sheep. A couple of lambs with their mother eyed me suspiciously. The sheep here are bolder than the timid ones closer to my home town. Clearly they've ignored the sign on the gate though!

Farm outbuildings are perfect for capturing grunge and rough rustic textures.  A group of passers-by seemed bemused by me photographing a rusty old trough. They didn’t pause to look closer.

I spotted a family of camera-shy baby rabbits hopping in and out of the stone barn. 

The ground here was lower than my visit to the sole tree from my previous post. But even on the  lower levels you witness the harshness of the environment as weather-beaten trees bow and strain against the biting cold winds.

This trio of trees clinging to the edge of the ridge caught my eye. This was a stark contrast to what was to come further along the pathway.

A few strides further and I came across the National Trust sign for the Malham Tarn Estate and the scenery changed dramatically.  An enchanted wood beckoned.

The verdant woodland was striking. Green - so very green and fresh. The scent from the lush carpet of wild garlic wafted across the valley.

I caught a glint of metal on a fallen tree trunk. I took a closer look and saw that the bark was covered in coins which had been hammered into the tree trunk. Row upon row upon row of coins. I glanced further along the river bank and spotted more. These were tree versions of lucky wishing wells. You shove a coin in the tree and make a wish!

Even the solitary bees have their own bee book nests high up in the ash trees. They form part of a bee library.

In the distance I spotted a wall of water and quickened my step. Was Janet waiting for me with a cuppa? 

Ahh,  and so this is Janet's Foss - a small but perfectly formed waterfall.  Janet - or Jennet as she's sometimes known - Queen of the Fairies lived in a cave behind the water. So goes the local legend. 

A place to be still...

A place to sit on the rocks and clear the head of incessant chatter.

The running water soothes.

At locations like this I regret not carrying along my tripod. I find it difficult to get a comfortable balance of weight when out walking and I find that my sturdy Manfrotto tripod can be cumbersome. I can be clumsy and have been known to trip over them…

Ps The tripod issue has been playing on my mind of late. I returned home and bought a new travel tripod - the Manfrotto Befree! I've not yet managed to get out and about with it but I'll let you know how I get on with it!

Lone Tree Above Malham

The skies are big and wide above Malham in Yorkshire - a place where you can breathe in the cold fresh air and feel all is well with the world.  It's no secret that Yorkshire is one of my very favourite places. I feel so at home here. 

The landscape surrounding the pretty village of Malham is incredibly beautiful but without doubt hostile too. The mist descends. It drizzles. Hard driving rain. Biting wind. It's easy to be lulled into a false sense of security when the sun comes out and the clouds float gently across the vivid blue sky - so close that you feel you can reach out and touch them. 

Trees are few and far between on this landscape. It takes a tough tree to survive here. In all seasons the wind viciously whips across the land. Bracing. Lone trees are a magnet for photographers. Who doesn't get excited by the gnarled weatherbeaten skeleton of a lone tree? Simplicity is the keyword.  I'm not so much excited by those bedecked in leaves - you may see a fine silhouette from the distance but the character's hidden. 

And so in the distance I spotted a naked solitary weathered tree. A lone tree with a lone nest. As I perched myself on a drystone wall and carefully composed my photo I noticed movement amongst the limestone rocks. Of all the trees in all of Yorkshire and the one tree I want to photograph is not alone. A photographer had set his tripod up next to my tree! The idea of a lone tree and lone man appealed to me so I snapped away. Alone but not alone.

After a while I think he noticed me. He moved away and so I moved in a little closer. Our paths briefly crossed. We nodded our heads and although we didn't speak we glanced at each other in a knowing way - a mutual appreciation of that lone tree. 

The area around Malham is renowned for the striking limestone landscape made up of vast mosaics of clints and grykes. It's a paradise for geologists and photographers alike. The landscape takes on an almost lunar appearance in parts. Scenes from Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows were filmed way up here. So the next time you watch the movie take a closer look at the landscape during the atmospheric scene when Harry and Hermione pitch up the tent. 

For me the lone tree represents solitude. We all need to experience solitude every now and again. It's when I feel at my most creative. I'm not talking here about loneliness - I think there's a fine but definite line between solitude and loneliness. What do you think?

Only the well- insulated sheep and a handful of hardy cattle survive up here. They huddle together alongside the dry-stone walls or shelter in the tumbled down stone barns.

Perfect Yorkshire!

Ps I admit I've only ever seen the first Harry Potter film! It was an escape from torrential rain during a camping trip in France!

PPS Pesky dust spots!  I usually take my camera to the local camera shop to have the sensor cleaned but a few days before my trip I discovered that it had closed down. It saddens me. I'm guilty of sometimes using the likes of Amazon to buy bits of kit but when your local shop's gone so too has the wealth of expertise and friendly advice.  Too late for my local shop but next time you reach for the buy button online take a few moments to think if you could better support your local camera shop.

And finally, the tree is not as alone as your might think as it’s one of the most photographed trees in the area!