Three dales accompany the Wenlock Edge – Corve Dale, to the south-east, is named after its river; Ape Dale to the north-west has its brooks, but is more a natural gap between the edge and other hills than a valley as such. Hope Dale lies in the middle, between the twin escarpments of the edge. In Hope Dale, towards Wenlock, there’s the hamlet of Easthope. Westhope is further to the (south) west, oddly enough. And in the middle (of the middle) is Middlehope. It’s not very big, but surely it’s better to travel and to live in (Middle?) hope? (Enough!)

This was a pleasant walk on a pleasant afternoon. The farmers are getting their crops in, making the most of the dry weather. The colours are beginning to look autumnal, there are blackberries and fungi everywhere (and one sweet, juicy damson).  It’s almost a shame to arrive back at the car, to travel hopefully towards home.

Barely four miles, this was a pleasant amble through less frequented country, where signs of the coming autumn gather apace. There are elderberries, sloes, hips, haws – and blackberries by the ton. Not physically in the way, their presence nevertheless delayed our progress, as stained fingers will testify.

It’s almost that time of year, when the hedgerows are full of blackberries, and assorted toadstools begin to appear. The farmers are busy too, making the most of a (mostly) dry day. We did this Wenlock Edge walk earlier in the year – clockwise. The views are subtly different in the opposite direction.

After a very warm and sunny morning, the clouds have gathered, though it’s still warm and humid. Rain is forecast for the evening, but in the meantime, it would be good to be somewhere high, perhaps cooler and breezy. Can’t get anywhere higher, within the county, than Brown Clee.

It’s not far to the picnic area near Ditton Priors, a useful place to leave the car and an ideal starting point for easy ascents. The direct route would do for the return, in the meantime, we’ll take a slightly longer path – not the estate road which we’ve used before, but a higher track which leads steadily, on the gentlest of gradients, to the col between the hill’s twin summits. It’s been pleasant enough amongst the trees, and there have been some extensive views to the east; now we’re on the west-facing side and the views are immeasurably better – and there’s a very pleasant cooling breeze.

The direct path takes us back to the car – and we’ve left the passenger-side window wide open. I don’t think anyone has noticed.

Priors Holt, at the entrance to Nut Batch on the Long Mynd, is a good place to start a short walk. It’s also generally reckoned, amongst those who know of such things, to be the model for children’s author Malcolm Saville’s “Witchend”, the home of the “Lone Pine Club”. “Where’s the lone pine?”, asked my wife. I guess the club predated the Forestry Commission’s activities in these parts – there’s no sign of it.

The same body’s forest track provides an easy, gently graded route (beware of bmx bikes…) to the summit ridge of the Mynd , where we’re at last free from the trees. As ever, the views into mid-Wales are extensive, and there’s something of Arcadia (capital: Bishop’s Castle) in the middle distance, where lush pastures are encircled by hills.

We’ll return by a route we’ve not tried before, skirting the forest’s south-west flank, before entering the plantations and following a fairly clear path downhill. It’s probably a very clear path in the winter, but at this time of year it’s very nearly impassable, with head-high bracken, and interlocking brambles grabbing us in a most unfriendly manner. At least we found the (a) lone pine. Note to self: bring machete next time.

We would have spent longer, and walked a little further, on the Hope Bowdler hills – at least as far at the Battlestones. But as we took in the view from the ridge, a shower was approaching from the south-west, immediately downwind. We didn’t hang around – and sure enough, we needed the wipers briefly as we drove away. In the event, it was only a little drizzle in the wind – we perhaps wouldn’t have been soaked, but it had looked rather ominous…