Mists and …

We had the mellow fruitfulness a couple of days ago. Today, after overnight rain, it’s misty. We ought to be able to look back from the (slightly) higher ground south of Cound to the Ironbridge gorge, sans power station chimney – a rural view again after 60 years or so. Not a hope! Someone’s hidden the Wrekin too.

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Mellow fruitfulness

No mists though… There are ripe blackberries in the hedgerows, and lots of damsons – some are sweet enough to eat now, but most need another week or so. (They’ll probably all have been picked by then, ripe or not.) In the woods down Ned’s Lane, there’s a different kind of fruitfulness, which we certainly won’t be sampling…

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Harley, Homer and Belswardyne

Aging solicitors in tweed suits? Or perhaps villages / hamlets in Shropshire, below Wenlock Edge… We mustn’t (can’t!) forget Wigwig – little more than a farm, it’s earned its place on the signpost at the main road. The latter is busy on a warm Sunday afternoon (now we’re in autumn, the weather is warmer and sunnier than it was throughout August), but once we’re away from the road, this is quiet and very pleasant country.

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Astley Abbotts and the Severn

Wandering on the west bank of the river on the last day of summer: out past Boldings Pools and up the lane from Astley Abbotts, through the fields from the old school and down through the Colemore Green woods to the riverbank. Yet another grey day (not very warm either) – we’ll concentrate mainly on the foreground interest.

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Deep fields

A little way into this walk, there’s a field of wheat, edged with pale flax. Around the field’s perimeter are trees -the forest of Shirlett High Park, the wooded Barrow Dingle. Although the field and its crop are obviously there through human involvement in the land, there’s no-one else in sight, nor is anything else of human origin visible – no buildings, no pylons, no machinery. No roads run alongside. The only sounds are those of the birds, and the breeze (in the trees…). Deep fields!

Back to a kind of reality at Barrow, and just along the almost-impenetrable lane a little further on, the blackberries are ripe and ready for picking. Maybe not jam tomorrow, but soon, certainly…

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Purple Clee

Bonnie blooming heather on Brown Clee: a walk to Clee Burf, the southern summit of the hill, via The Toot (yes, really!). It’s a fine bright afternoon – the clouds are beautiful white cauliflowers. Sadly, the sun always seems to be behind them when we’re amongst the heather. This is a bank holiday weekend, so it’s crowded – three other walkers, and a couple of young women on horses. And the sheep, of course. Hundreds of them.

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