A scenic U-turn

Yesterday we had the luck of the sun again - October has been largely kind, weather wise. I had a workshop kit to post out; I normally do this using the online postage service and then hand my parcel over to the collecting post person at the top of the lane. But  today, I decided to cycle over to the village post office, where I haven’t been since early this year. It was all going well and I had a jovial exchange with an elderly walker who commented on my going at ‘sixty miles an hour’, to which I replied that yes, I was going so fast! (I wasn’t). And then just as I got to the turn off for the village, I came up against this;

There was a man with a mobile phone wandering about, but no workers, so I enquired if it would be possible for me to push my bike through, as the diversion was quite a large one. He investigated what I could see was a fairly deep cut trench (the electric mains wires were being replaced) and advised against it, as there was barely any road to work on. I had to agree with him. So I turned homewards. Said hello to the elderly walker again. Pushed Marjorie up the hill.

Investigated some gnarly bits of hedgerow.

And took a scenic shot, before returning home feeling thwarted but virtuous. And later that day I got my order sent off the usual way, stopping to chat to our farmer who (cheerfully blocking the traffic with his enormous tractor) offered to give the outside of the cottage hedge a trim as he always does. He’s a good sort. 

I have been busy juggling various things and have been amazed that my new Patreon page has gained twelve lovely subscribers since I launched it last week. It’s been good to have a safe place, where I can post freely and chat more easily with people. With the benefit of subscriptions, I’m able to take the time to craft longer, photo rich posts, and update more regularly here. I’ve also added three extra tiers, which allow people to save towards a small piece of my work over six months. 

This week, my subscribers shared my quiet weekend, in ‘A Letter from Saturday Night’. 

And have been on a long, autumnal ramble with me, with lots of photos, as I took Marjorie out for a very long spin, finding (at long last) some woodland to explore in ‘Seeing the Woods and the Trees’. 

If you’d like to join me in my wanderings, you can find my Patreon page here. I’d love to see you! (And Marjorie would be pleased too). 

From grey clouds to blue skies

I have been steadily working for some time, working on my first online needle felting project, which means a lot of time spent with my camera and computer. So last week I decided to get out and about, even if it was only for an hour or so. My poor bike, Marjorie, had flat tyres from languishing in the porch for months, but once they were pumped up, she was ready to go. 

 

The lane outside the cottage looks peaceful and idyllic here, but after taking this photo, a busy red car came up behind me, and a high sided lorry came up the road soon after, which is normal. So I was anxious to get onto a quieter side pathway, a mile further on.

The skies were a flood of brisk grey clouds, blowing over from the West. On the far horizon, the Shropshire hills were just visible, blue and brooding.

It was a gentle, pottering cycle ride, with many stops to take snapshots and take in the views. And rest my legs.

Autumn is the time of hedgerow treasure and I found shaggy parasols mushrooms. I have eaten these in the past, but they were so pretty I left them alone.

Brambles and hops draped themselves artistically along the road, still green as autumn has not yet changed the pallet of the countryside.

This is my favourite lane. It gently winds into the distance and slopes away uphill; I know exactly where it goes, and still it maintains a delicious mystery.

It is past harvest time and hay stacks are everywhere - some are so large that I wonder how they stand upright.

The odd thing about this lane is that I always anticipate a left hand turn to take me back to the nearby village. Yet it actually curves round so gently that before I realise I'm there, I am already in front of the imposing gates of what used to be 'the big house' of the village. It's still technically 'the big house' but is now a commercial venture. And this is where my return journey begins.

A few months ago, a large old oak tree blew down in a gale and already nature is taking over. I have a feeling this imposing fungus may be 'Chicken of the Woods', but I know it to be typically a yellowish colour, whereas this was mostly white. It was the size of a large cat. 

As I neared home, the fickle wind blew the cloud cover away to reveal a piercing blue sky.

 

Ahead and in the far distance was the blue hump of the Wrekin, which is the main view from my studio window. As the road twists and turns, it seems to be situated first to the left, then to the right, then to the left again; I like to think it is quietly shuffling around like a great, shy prehistoric creature, trying to hide unsuccessfully.

I am one of those  for whom home is never so beautiful as when I am leaving or returning to it and there, in the distance, to the right of the farm, is the dear cream wall of the cottage. A short journey, but with so much to see.

Little Post Office

It's been a bit grey and overcast here recently, so when we finally had a day of sun, I cycled over to the nearest village to post a couple of orders. The landscape was winter bare, and spring is still some way off, despite the clear skies and warmth.

The village has just two shops - the tiny butchers, with its original beams still visible...

..and the Post Office, which is no more than a  doll's house. Marjorie had a rest outside, while I did my errand. We are both out of shape and her tyres need pumping.

And then the return journey home, through the funny twisting lane out of the village.

 Stopping to take a scenic shot as I pushed Marjorie up the big hill.

I dropped in to the farmer next door, to give them a small present or two for cutting the hedge recently and visited the new calves in an old shed.

 They are cautious.

But still curious enough to wander up close, to see what's happening.

22 mile picnic

Here in the UK we have been enjoying an unusually hot spring, a blessing after the misery of the long winter. So it is picnic time again and we happily wend our way through flower lined lanes and villages hoping to wear off more calories than we will put on later.


Past blossoming orchards and sleepy cows...


...down (and inevitably, up) - winding lanes...


...past grandious Cotswold 'piles'...


...and parched fields, waiting for rain.


We too are rather parched and it is fortunate that our destination is here;


Or, to be precise, here;


Oh, the injustice that our favourite pub is nearly ten miles from home! By now I am an alarming shade of red and it is with great relief that I plonk myself down with a much needed glass of Addlestone's cider -


- and a chance to relax for an hour or so and watch the world go by.


At last we haul ourselves up and begin the journey home and the all-important mission of finding a suitable picnic spot. Returning through Broadwell village, with it's pretty cottages -

- and back on the road. It is now mid-afternoon and hot as June.

Somewhere along here is...

...the right spot for a picnic, a modest affair.

Marjorie carries most of the supplies and needs a rest too.

Returning home through the abandoned farm in the woods, surprising the plump Buff Orpington rooster who had strayed from his harem -

- and scuttled off, legs wattling furiously, to protect them.

I am not used to cycling this far and there were now points when pushing was necessary. Byeee Andy!

There he goes, off down the home track.

Disappearing towards the village. Put the kettle on dear.

There is nothing like coming home somewhat exhausted, to find that someone has had a lovely, lazy afternoon in the sun. And then discovering that you have cycled 22 miles. Something I can barely believe myself.