On leaving the house, I usually glance up at Darwen moor to get an idea of what weather is heading our way. Last week, to my surprise, the trees below Darwen Tower were standing out white with hoar frost against the darker moorland. Intrigued, we changed our plans and made our way up the hill so we could witness the effect up close.
My favourite routes follow the footpaths that criss-cross the moor rather than the main ones. Underfoot, imagine a slender, uneven path that suits itself to the contours of the land, leads over the crests; around miniature valleys; skirts streams, drops and denser vegetation; and heads straight through a series of boggy crossroads.
While the paths are easy to make out, they’re almost always muddy (which means slippery) and are littered with uneven stones. Ideally designed to twist an ankle.
The ground rises and falls underfoot to take account of an unassuming patchwork of mosses, heather and other low-growing, tufty, moorland plants which together make interlocking little mounds, broken up by ferns and grasses. The frost was giving them highlights, but my locally attuned eye delights in them on the drabbest day.
Strategically placed stepping stones make it possible to cross the worst of the waterlogged bits. Historically placed by fellow walkers, not local authorities, most ‘crossings’ show signs of just-in-time planning, providing the bare minimum needed for passage. Excess provisions will, over the years, have been repurposed to help navigate a new worst bit.
On a winter’s day, the stepping stones don’t look much different to the rest of the mud, and may or may not be loose underfoot, but have faith: barring a new, recent landslide, there will be a way.
While we hardly see anyone else during our climb, the mud offers proof that we’re never really travelling alone up there. A hodge-podge of footprints, pawprints and hoofprints show how many have recently passed this way.
Today, the trees are stealing the show. Darwen Tower is wearing a white scarf of frosted birches.
Close up, the effect is remarkable. I hope you can feel some of the magic.
We passed above farmland on our way up – you might just be able to pick out a white horse, recently immortalised in a video about the town. We’re really not all that high or far from Darwen, but it always seems like another world.
I’ll leave you with proof that we reached Darwen Tower. Sadly no cakes or hot chocolate were on offer. It’s grim up North.
Shared for the lovely Jo’s Monday Walk.
Susan Rushton 
This is a fantastically atmospheric post. I don’t know this specific area, but it’s so close to daughter’s stamping ground in Bradshaw (Bolton) though she’s often on her bike rather than on foot.
We often see people riding bicycles up there and the odd person pushing a pram. We met a couple of people in wheelchairs on their way down recently, although that is not for the fainthearted.
Defiitely not. That sounds character-building!
Beautiful landscapes!
Especially so on a rare day, like that one.
Magic, as you say. Well done for braving the elements.
It was not as cold as it looks – invigorating, of course, but the air was still.
I never much liked the boginess of the Yorkshire Moors, making me drag my poor legs, but a crisp frost that firmed the ground was always welcome. Your photos are spectacular and I thank you so much for sharing the experience with me. I loved it. I’m going back for another look.
It’s my pleasure to share these as a walk, which I’d not have done but for your encouragement. Our paths avoid the bogs, although a short section of the route we followed is marshy. You’re right – some frost underfoot is handy on moorland. It gives, rather than throws your foot off like frosted paving might.
Very nice series and commentary.
Thanks, David. I’m glad you enjoyed it.
I love the frosty trees, they look so ethereal and magical. I notice India Mill chimney in the background of your later photos, I wrote an in-depth post about the mill and its originator early last November. When we had the snow a couple of weeks ago I went walking round Belmont village and the Hollinshead Hall ruins and got some lovely photos.
Funny how life changes. Once upon a time, I’d be straight out to roll a giant snowball to make a snowman with, but these days we’re more likely to look for somewhere we can take pictures.
Wonderful post and images; what a fantastic location to explore!
Yes, it’s a treat for us to have Darwen Hill and the right to roam.
A beautifully written post and I enjoyed walking with you. Hoar frosts make for extremely magical photos, this trees are fabulous.
I was so tempted to add more tree pictures, but you can have too much, even of a good thing.
Thank you for braving the elements and terrain to take me on a fabulous journey of a wonderland Susan 😀
My pleasure Brian. It’s lovely to be able to take you along. Quite a contrast to your weather too.
Quite the contrast, although the heat is making me melt 😓
Thank you for the tour. It is truly magical. What is the purpose of the tower?
It’s a folly, a focal point, supposed to be partly a celebration of gaining the right to roam and partly a celebration of the Jubilee. I wrote about it here: https://susanrushton.net/2020/09/24/darwen-jubilee-tower/
These trees are amazing. Once in awhile that happens here too.
I’m glad you’ve experienced it too. Such a treat, isn’t it?
It looks like enchanted land! I must visit this place one day, I didn’t know there was a tower.
The tower sits on the hill overlooking the town. I keep meaning to share pictures of when it was wrapped up while the stonework was being worked on. It looked quite funny.