A walk up the lane from the National Trust car park in Much Wenlock – to see if the orchids were out… They were – and they weren’t on their own. (I’ve no idea what the orange blobs are in the last photo – we thought they were some kind of tiny fungi, hardly bigger than match heads – but looking more closely at the photo, they seem to be growing on the moss itself)

Wall-to-wall warm sunshine – blue skies, clear air, a pleasant breeze – perfect! It’s been a long time coming. Ideal conditions for a walk from Little Stretton, up beside Small Batch to Pole Bank, back down the Ashes Hollow. A red kite circled, then descended into Callow Hollow; later he appeared again over the ridge, and we saw him one last time as we walked down the quiet valley (maybe three different kites? I doubt it). He didn’t stay – left it for us, the sheep and the buzzards. Other than the aforementioned, and lots of small birds, singing loudly, we had the Ashes Hollow to ourselves. For much of the descent, there’s nothing man-made in view (other than the path) – it can sometimes be hard to believe we’re in the English Midlands.

A walk from Aston Munslow into quiet country on the Wenlock Edge. The Munslows are on the Corvedale road, which isn’t particularly quiet, but through Millichope Park and down into Hope Dale, there’s mostly just birdsong, plus a few sheep and a noisy dog at the farm. A rustle in the trees below gave us a glimpse of a deer, and a red kite wheeled for a few moments before disappearing behind the trees – neither were there long enough, or near enough, for a photo. The kites are coming further and further east from their mid-Wales stronghold – there was one over our house yesterday, a real “first”.

The Speller? Clearly labelled as such on the OS 1:50000 maps, and their 1″ predecessors, the name has intrigued me for many years. There’s a Speller Brook, which flows down through Millichope Park, and Speller Coppice is an area of woodland in these parts. Other than that, I’ve no idea what it is, or refers to.

There were still patches of snow here and there, where the deepest drifts would have been. Still quite a bit on Brown Clee too, though the air was so hazy we could barely see it. It’s still cold, too – very few signs of spring in the Shropshire hills

It’s the 3rd of April today, yet the heavy snowfall of the weekend before last (eleven days ago!) is still very evident in the hill country. It’s blown and melted from the more open ground, but it’s deep amongst the heather and gorse, and some substantial drifts remain. The (very) minor road south from The Bog is blocked below The Rock.

It knocked us off our planned course too – very slightly. We were intending to arrive back at the Bog Centre in time for refreshments, and they would close at 5pm. Time was getting tight by the time we’d walked our way round to The Rock, and progress along the ridge (the preferred route) would have been slow and laborious given the depth of snow. So we walked along the road instead – much quicker, and we were able to say hello to the llamas along the way…

An Easter Sunday walk from Benthall Hall, Shropshire. We may have put the clocks forward, but it’s still winter time here. Last weekend’s snowfall was the heaviest for many years – and though it’s cleared from the roads, there’s still plenty in the fields, and some of the paths are not easily walked. The air’s cold – the snow is melting, but not very quickly. Some of the drifts were deep – it must have been tricky this time last week.

It’s the highest point (577m or 1893 feet) of the line of hills north of the Dee, between Llangollen and Carrog. Yesterday’s walk took us from the Ponderosa, at the top of the Horseshoe Pass, along the ridge to the col between Moel y Gamelin and Moel y Gaer, then back along a path following the contours back round towards the slate workings. Paths are not clear here – we ended up on the wrong side of the quarries, but managed to find a way back round. Moel y Gamelin must be a tremendous viewpoint on a clear day…

A fairly bright, and very cold, afternoon – it would be good for a walk, if we could keep out of the wind,which was making 2 degrees feel like minus several. We walked along the old GWR railway line to Coalport, across the bridge, and up the other Coalport railway line (LNWR) as far as Blists Hill. Here, a path climbs up to the edge of the gorge, above the trees of Lloyd’s Coppice. The view would have been better if there had been one or two gaps in the trees… At the far end of the coppice, a path leads down to Wesley Road, then New Bridge Road provides a route to the Free Bridge, and the right side of the river for our return to the car.

Yesterday we were walking on Hergest Ridge – Kington’s hill. Today we’re much closer to home: Wellington, in Shropshire, has its own hill too – the Wrekin. It was busy – it’s half-term week – on this sunny, but very hazy, afternoon. Not a hill you’re ever likely to have to yourself, though taking a few steps away from the well-worn path to the summit is a good way of escaping the chatter of the crowds. Away in the haze, South Shropshire’s hill country looks inviting.

Residents of Kington, in Herefordshire’s border country, have their own hill – just the thing for a leg stretch on a fine Sunday afternoon – which it was, though the morning’s mist had only just cleared as we set off from the car. I have to admit that we (and several others) cheated, by parking near the top of Ridgebourne Road, saving a mile at either end of the walk. Put that another way – it’s an extra mile on the hill…

Music lovers of a certain age will, of course, associate Hergest Ridge (yes, it’s the same one) with Mike Oldfield, of Tubular Bells and Virgin Records fame. Released in 1973, It was Virgin’s first album, and a huge success. Who would be running our trains today, if it hadn’t been for Tubular Bells?

It’s a waterfall, a little way up the valley of the Afon Eiddew, one of the two rivers that feed the head of Lake Vyrnwy. At this time of year, the sunshine brings out the colours in the hillsides – but also casts shadow over the lower parts of the fall. We’ll perhaps have to go again – either later in the season, or earlier in the day, when the morning sun would be shining straight up the valley.