Autumn clouds and comfort food

At last we have had a good amount of rain, and the landscape is slowly greening up again. There is a distinct autumnal feel to the shortening days, and I'm settling into the cooler weather with a sense of relief and the urge to cook hearty comfort food. This morning, it was bright, with a warm southwest wind herding great flocks of billowing clouds over the Shropshire countryside; it was the ideal weather for a cycle.

I visited the village and popped into the little shop which sells all manner of lovely things, buying a big handmade pasty as a treat, and turned my return into a longer circular ride of seven and a half miles. This is a favourite route of mine, winding lazily past open farmland, with wide views towards the Shropshire Hills of Caer Caradoc and the Lawley.

The lanes were strangely quiet throughout August, as the extreme heat took its toll on the agricultural year. With the rain of the last couple of weeks, farmers are out in their tractors, busy making up for lost time, ploughing and fertilising for winter crops.

Here we are looking across to the pointy pimple summit of Caer Caradoc, just on the horizon, behind the trees on the right.

You can see it more clearly below, on the left, taken as the sun made an escape from the clouds and lit up the hillside. And there, to the right, just on the edge of the fields, looking delightfully out of place, a white gazebo, poised elegantly in the rugged Shropshire landscape.

I haven't been out on No.6 much this summer, due to the heat, and despite the pedal assist, which helps my cranky old knees, I was glad to find myself on the home stretch, stopping to admire a last view of the cloud palaces.

The homely looking dish is my very simple version of corned beef hash; just a medium chopped onion, sauteed in a pan, add a can of baked beans and a tin of corned beef, diced. A good splurt of brown sauce (I think the nearest US equivalent is steak sauce, or you can use Worcestershire), and a pinch of dried mixed herbs. Into a large oven proof bowl.  Then a ton of mashed potato on top, with cheese if you're feeling extravagant, and I had some home grown tomatoes, so they went on top too. It's lovely to be able to enjoy hot food again.

(This also works for vegetarians, by subbing out the corned beef for red lentils and for vegans, the same, using Vegan butter/cheese alternatives with the mash).  

In search of blue

 

 

In search of blue on a November day, I went walking hereabouts. Lowering clouds clung to the cap of Caer Caradoc.

 Across new shoots, a thin patch of sky over an isolated farm.

 

 

 Over wintering sheep grazing, fat and content in the emerging sun.

 

 

 Farmhouse chimneys, warm and red .

 

 

Nearing home. Suddenly the sun sweeps widely across the fields, and all is a blaze of cerulean, green and gold.

And there it is, where you least expect it; a large stone glowing coldly in the dirt path; icy aqua, a glacier in miniature and I have found my blue.

On Hergest Ridge

This is part of the Offa's Dyke path, which leads up to Hergest Ridge, in our neighbouring sister county, Herefordshire. This is an old drover's path and it becomes beautifully broad and inviting as you proceed up and along it.

It's a nice gentle climb to the top, just right for out of condition types like ourselves and even better - a bench handily situated halfway up.

 

Where one can study the map and try to work out where the heck we are in relation to everything.

We like to know where we are in a landscape Just beyond the hills, a dim blue hump on the horizon, we spot Caer Caradoc, whose more taxing slopes we went up the other week. Now we can place ourselves. There's Shropshire, just a few miles away -

 - and there's two humped Caer Caradoc, the furthest hill we can see, keeping a watchful eye on us, in case we stray too far.

If you recognise the name 'Hergest Ridge', then you may be thinking of the Mike Oldfield album of the same title. It was written round about here, and somewhere in our packed up things I have the original vinyl, picked up second hand when I was about seventeen, so visiting the actual place was a  landmark journey for me.

We made our way to the flattened top, where the winds whistle and sheep graze quietly with ponies. Then we strolled back down hill, finding shelter behind a big gorse bush where we could eat in peace - the local cheeses we bought in Ludlow a few hours earlier - Wrekin White, Monkland and Ludlovian Cheddar. With ripe Victoria plums and water. Apart from the ciabatta (although also locally baked) it was about a traditional a picnic as we could wish for.

We ate overlooking the heart of England - which may look like a flat bit of land here, but there across are the Malvern Hills and beyond them unseen, the Cotswolds, our old stamping grounds. Back then, we would see them and imagine Herefordshire and Shropshire behind them, wondering if one day we'd be living on the other side. Border country.

Up Caer Caradoc

 

Shall we forget about the stress and headaches of house buying? Shall we post off the last deadline and get out for some sun and air? Let's go over to one of the famous Shropshire Hills and climb up into the blue.

 

 Up Caer Caradoc, which we see on our drives out and about. From the ascent we can see towards it's smooth sloped sister, the Lawley and beyond towards Shrewsbury.

After three weeks of stuffing inside trying to meet deadlines, my calves were screaming by the time we got to the top. Oh look, there's another bit to it...

 So I found a sheltered spot to flop down in and gave Andy the camera, so that he could show me what it was like from the top. There is the Lawley again, but smaller and my favourite hill, the Wrekin - a distant blue lump in the background.

 

 Sitting in the sun, listening to the wind riffle the grasses, the faint bleating of sheep and the sharp swish of air as swallows dive low over the hillside. Finding the tiny things in a landscape of huge things. Dozing off.

Hey, wait for me Andy! 

Wait for meeee!