A curved cliff in the Yorkshire Dales, a grieving Victorian poet, and three habits for any writer trying to put on the page something that is no longer there. Stand at the foot of Malham Cove and you get a strange feeling. You are looking at a waterfall. It has the height, the width, and the curved lip at the top. It is only missing the water. In my last article, beneath the broken tower at Helmsley, I argued that most ruins have human hands behind them, but that sometimes th