Sky Views Over Townsend Meadow

I do miss the ever changing sky-show over the field behind our Wenlock cottage, the weather and cloud effects heightened by a false horizon created by the crest of Wenlock Edge and the way the ground there falls steeply through some thousand feet of hanging woods to farmland and the North Shropshire plain.

I think our elevated viewpoint of the lowland’s rising clouds might explain an unusual ‘rainbow’ phenomenon witnessed one fine, dry June evening after the sun had dropped behind the Edge. Here it is (it was rather more vivid in real life)…

At the time I thought it was a fire rainbow, but I’m not sure it was. They apparently occur in fluffy cirrus clouds at around 20,000 feet when the sun shines at a particular angle through ice crystals. Anyway, I’m assuming the reason for the effect seen in the photo is something similar – to do with rising cold air above Wenlock Edge, some icy vapour caught by the sun shining up from below. Further info welcome from any atmospheric scientists out there.

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Another early evening sky in June

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February sunset and shower from the office window

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Winter at the Sytche Lane rookery

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Late summer storm brewing

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A rare dawn shot

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And a soothing cloud view to finish – because it’s definitely good for our well-being to gaze at clouds. It helps to broaden our visual and mental perspective. I learned this last week while listening to an interview about mindfulness and anxiety with Harvard Medical School professor and psychotherapist, Dr. Ron Siegel. He has some recorded guided meditations HERE for anyone who needs a bit of extra soothing.

Lens-Artists: Skyscapes or cloudscapes  This week Amy sets the theme with some stunning examples.

Farewell Townsend Meadow

Oh, how the weather gods teased. Well, they thought, why not bestow snow storms in March just when humankind are expecting spring and the Farrells in particular are booked (within a very narrow window of opportunity) to up sticks. We’ll show them, the deities said, taking us for granted, thinking they’ve got everything planned to the nth degree

And so it was that our first attempt to move house (two weeks today) failed, the main roads blocked with car accidents and jack-knifed artics, and the removal vans unable to reach us.

And then once the mover crew did manage to extract their vehicles from a two-hour jam, they  decided to cut their losses and go and move someone whose house they could reach, meanwhile rescheduling us for the following Friday morning.

We felt stranded; misplaced; displaced. It was all very weird. We wandered round a cottage full of boxes, bereft of ‘home’, trying to locate the kettle and emergency tea-making kit. As the day wore on it began to rain, and spirits lifted; there were signs of a thaw. When we went into town later to find some supper, the roads were clear and the pavements slushy, we were sure that the snow would be gone by morning. We were still thinking this when we bunked down for the night on the mattress, the bed having been dismantled.

So it was a very bad moment when I opened the bedroom blinds at 7 a.m. on Friday to find the world white again and more snow falling. I had visions of our buyer trying to move in with us.

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I needn’t have panicked. The movers were on the phone early, saying that although the main road was still closed, they would come the long way round and be with us at 9 am. And so they were. They had us away in 2 hours, the loading much helped, (surprise surprise) by the snow. The bad weather reports and the ongoing road blockage beyond Wenlock meant we missed out on the the usual morning traffic mayhem. There were no big container trucks squeezing by the house.

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So: all there was left to do was to say goodbye to no. 31…

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It’s a tad hard to process just yet – the moving on, but we seem (physically at least), to be settling into the rental house. And, besides, there’s so much to learn about our new home town of Broseley. Of which more anon, although I can report in advance that the locals are proving most welcoming. The snow is long gone too, although the weather gods are still teasing and giving us wintery gales instead of spring.

The Best Of All Seasons 2022

New Year on Newborough Beach, Anglesey –  mainland Wales in the mist

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We began and ended 2022 on the island of Anglesey in North Wales. In between there were meanderings to favourite spots in Shropshire and around and about the town of Much Wenlock.So here we have a random selection of a year’s happy moments and things that caught my eye.

January walk on Wenlock Edge – looking down on Much Wenlock

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On the Cutlins in February

And finding aconites: first signs of spring

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The Linden Walk in early March

And alder catkins in the Linden Field

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April over the garden fence

Oil Seed Rape in full flourish in the Corve Valley

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May on the Linden Walk

And on Windmill Hill

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June on Wenlock’s old railway line

And on the Stiperstones viewing the Devil’s Chair from a respectful distance

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June in the garden

And on the Bull Ring, Much Wenlock

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July in the garden

And in the Shropshire Hills at Mitchell’s Fold

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August over the garden fence

And with the Cutlins MacMoos during the two-day heatwave

And after the wheat harvest on Callaughton Ash

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September: harvesting the field beans in Townsend Meadow

Gathering storm clouds, but no rain

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Early October and back to Wales: Barmouth Beach

And October’s end in Ludlow

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November: windfall quinces at the allotment

And a sundowner stroll on Windmill Hill

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December over the garden fence

And on hoar-frosty Downs Hill

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And so back to the beach, Lligwy, Anglesey, January 2023

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Lens-Artists: Favourite 2022 images John at Journeys with Johnbo sets the theme for this week.

Zero Degrees And Getting Colder

This morning over the garden fence: frosted crab apples and brilliant sunshine. The weather people tell us there will be more frost tonight and tomorrow (temps around –5 C), but slightly milder weather over the weekend.

In the meantime, I’ve been enjoying the frost-art around the garden, and especially the glistening spent flower heads of the Smoke Bush (Cotinus coggygria). Truly a tree for all seasons.

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And then there were the spider installations on the garden shed window:

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We also checked on the MacMoos this morning. They seemed in meditative mood, soaking up the sunshine.

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Much Wenlock’s Church Green this morning

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And finally before lunch there was a quick tramp to the allotment, the wheat field iron-hard, and hard on the feet too, even in boots.

Townsend Meadow

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Allotment windfalls – the robins are enjoying them

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Fine Weather For The MacMoos…

When we’re popping to the shops, it’s always a treat to find the highland cattle in the Cutlins meadow. They come and go during the year, moved to other fields around the town. Sometimes we have members of the junior clan, sometimes the seniors, now and then a calf with mother and aunts. In summer we watch them flaked out, wherever they can find shade. In winter they seem much more spritely, or at least as spritely as a MacMoo ever gets. At the moment, with hoar frosty days, they are stoking up with plenty of hay – inside and out. They’re not tidy eaters.

The Cutlins footpath – ideal for MacMoo viewing

Today Over The Garden Fence

This morning we woke to thickly frosted panes on the cottage roof lights. But what a change after the dank and gloomy days. The frost came with added sunshine. And blue-sky brilliance. And frosted sparkles. And somehow cold weather doesn’t seem half so shivery when it brings wall-to-wall brightness.

This is the Evereste crab apple tree by the back garden fence. The pigeons and blackbirds have been scoffing the tiny apples. At least half the crop has gone already. It helps that the fruits are much smaller this year so the birds can get their beaks round them. And in between times, the apples that remain make fine beaded garlands, which we can see, looking up through the kitchen’s French windows. It truly is a treasure of a tree.

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Back in August and September:

CFFC: Apple Red Colours

End Of The Day ~ School’s Out

  William Brookes School pupils walking home across the Linden Field

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The last day of #WalkingSquares, and a big cheer for Becky for getting us out and about. And an even bigger cheer for Becky for getting herself out and about: such a spirited and generous stepping out as she finds her own path through grief. In fact, I’m  really going to miss these squares. Even though my own participation has been sporadic, I enjoyed the IDEA of the daily walk, the mysterious cyber magic of people sharing their wanderings around the globe each day.

Thank you, Becky!

 

Walking Squares #30

A Quick Trip To The Plot

Yesterday morning we woke to glorious sunshine, this after days of gloom and deluge and nights of rain battering the rooflights. With all the wetness, the lean-to greenhouse against the back door had been leaking and turned itself into a paddling pool, the garden water butts were overflowing and everywhere turned to mud. I had not been up to the allotment for days.

But then came the sunshine, and I needed leeks and herbs for the risotto I’d planned, and also salad stuff to go with it. And then there was the vegetable waste to take up to the compost bins. So I set off, though not before I’d grabbed a stick to avoid an undignified up-ending along the field path. (Done that: got the muddy bum to prove it).

It truly was all slip and slide, though in passing I noticed the winter wheat in Townsend Meadow had grown an inch or two, though there was also an unscheduled stream of water along the field boundary. Climbing through the hedge gap into the allotment also proved problematical. No foothold on the mud bank. I was glad I’d brought the stick.

Allotment plots have a tendency to dreariness in the winter months, but the paths had been mowed and some diligent allotmenteers had worked hard to tidy away the listing bean poles and decaying vegetation. I’m afraid I’m not one of them, nor did I feel inclined to make a start yesterday. Instead, I inspected the winter greens,  pulled up leeks, prised some container-grown parsnips out of their bucket and gathered rocket, lettuce, parsley, fennel and baby spinach from the polytunnel. There were even a few Sungold tomatoes to pick. Now that was a treat. Then I had natter with stalwart gardener Phoebe, who was on her way home for lunch, and then, guess what…

…it started to rain. A blanket of wet mist descended and I headed home, though not before taking the header photo, snapped because somehow the drizzle made everywhere look gauzy. But by the time I reached the garden gate the light had gone and the rain set in. I turned back to scan the field: dusk at lunchtime? I really do not remember a November with so much day-time darkness. Nor a month that has gone so fast: not so much walking as galloping.

Walking Squares #26 Becky thinks we should not let bad weather stop us from walking; in fact confronting wild weather elements may well do us good.

Day’s End On Windmill Hill

Windmill Hill is probably most Wenlockians’ favourite spot for a short walk, though it does involve quite a steep climb, especially if you approach it from the Linden Field.

When I set off here on Friday afternoon it was under glooming skies. But just as I reached the top, the sun broke through the cloud, lighting up the land all around the town. Here are the views:

Looking west. You can see the allotment polytunnels in the shadows  just right of centre.

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And to the east, Shadwell Quarry, long disused, but the land around slated for some sort of leisure development (dive school plus cabins). The pool is exceedingly deep, and every time I look, the water level seems to have risen. Peregrine falcons have a breeding spot in the least accessible quarter of the quarry face.

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And looking from east to south:

These two photos show land that was originally part of Wenlock Priory’s considerable possessions; once the monks’ hunting ground in fact. After the Dissolution in 1540 the Priory assets were acquired by Henry VIII’s courtiers and sold on to London gentry, men with entrepreneurial flair who were intent on further developing industrial enterprises already run by the monks and their peasant workforce: coal mining, iron smelting, charcoal production.

These days, as you can see, it is an agricultural estate (some 10,000 acres) presently owned by Lord Forester, whose family have held it since the 17th century. The distant tree line in the photo immediately above is Shirlett Forest, the site of early coal mines, where it is said, (and somewhat hair-raisingly) that the miners reached the coal seams by being lowered down shafts in baskets. As may be imagined, for some this did not end well.

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And finally looking down the hill to the Linden Field:

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Now you can see why it’s a favourite walk. I also discovered on Friday that a brand new bench has arrived there, bequeathed by two well-loved residents. What a very fine gift to us. Two good spots for sitting and dreaming.

Walking Squares #20

The Linden Walk After Rain

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The Linden Walk is just across the road from our house. And of course it is its own walk, so all I had to do for today’s ‘walking square’ was lean on the park gate and take its picture.

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Walking Squares #17 Lots of fine foliage too over at Becky’s