At Venus Pool

Since getting out and about, I have found a new, nearby refuge. Venus Pool is a 20 minute cycle away, a bird watching reserve with hides dotted about and rich in all kinds of wildlife. It is here that I go when I need that 'thing' which I can only get from tramping about in the green.

There is a new area of woodland opened up - it has been well over a year since I was in woods and I had almost forgotten how deeply they touch me. These woods are cultivated; a far cry from my old woods in the Cotswolds, which nursed remnants of the ancient Wychwoods in their heart. These are more Rivendell that Mirkwood, but to a thirsty soul they were bliss.  

Returning, down a long, straight track leading towards an oak tree.

 Buttercup fields glisten in the sun.

  

There are blowsy, overladen hawthorn trees lifted straight from a Samuel Palmer painting.

 There are strategically placed seats, just where you want them. With views.

 Naturally, the Wrekin overlooks it all. It is never far from the background.

 On the way home, I see the potato crops are starting to show through.

Getting back in the saddle

 

It's taken me a long time to get my lovely push bike (Marjorie) out and about. The day Andy surprised me with her was one of the happiest days of my life, to know that he loved me so much - as I loved him.

Since he died, even though she is my only form of transport  - and the nearest shop being two miles away - I haven't been able to face riding her, a unbearable reminder of what precious thing I have lost.

 

But this spring I felt able to get her out of the shed and dust her off. Brian-next-door pumped her tyres up for me and we have been having little adventures, finally exploring the gorgeous landscape around us.

We're never far from a view of the Shropshire Hills.

We even found an egg honesty box a few miles away. 

It's hard sometimes, to allow myself to enjoy all of this, knowing that Andy never got the chance to see that we made the right choice after all. How he would have loved it.

 

Shropshire is proving to be more uppy and downy than the Cotswolds, but Marjorie and I are learning to tackle the hills.

 

 It's nice to see my little cottage with its cream chimney stack, nestling in the landscape as we return home.

Round the corner

 

 

  

 

I don't seem to get out much, but I am looking forward to spring and exploring a little more. Walking is hard, as that is when I feel Andy's absence most. He could be just out of sight, waiting for me around a corner, as he so often did. I walk around the corner and and he is not there. But I still have my camera to keep me company and bear witness. And I still have my life long love of landscape and nature.

Logs, roads and views

 

A very popular property presenter on television says that there is always a compromise when choosing a house,  no matter what the budget. This is our compromise and it's a biggie. We are on a road. Something I once vowed was non-negotiable. It is usually quiet but it does have busy periods early in the morning and at home time. Some drivers slow down, some don't and as we are close to several farms, there is an interesting variety of tractors and feed trucks trundling past. It's ok most of the time.  We compromised because along the hedge from where this top photo was taken, is all of our nice big private garden, down to our little cream cottage which is further down. There is nobody overlooking us (except the cows in the field next door).  That was more important to us than the road.

Andy has taken down the sold sign. He is standing in the small front yard which opens directly onto the road. At some point in the distant future we will enclose it, so that the cats can go out. At the moment they can only go out if we keep an eye on them, as the risk of them going under some wheels is too great. Of course, they make a beeline for the road, not the big field on the other side!

But ten minutes down the road, I can turn off into this little lane which is old, deep and less used. It takes me up to some lovely views; I can see brooding Caer Caradoc from here, in the distance.

And although we really DO live in the middle of nowhere now,  the log man lives just half a mile away.

 Delivered by tractor, in time for the cold snap.

Ludlow snaps

 

A much needed mini-mini-break in Ludlow, arguably the food capital of the UK. We love Ludlow. We always buy a good wodge of local bacon and sausages from our favourite butcher. As always, it was rammed with customers; there is only a small shop space inside, so buying is a bit of a 'shouting your order over the tops of someone else's head' affair.

 

Ludlow is a pleasing architectural medley, not too regimented, not too eccentric. Everywhere there is something interesting or quaint to admire, Georgian and Mediaeval styles nestling happily with Victorian and Tudor.

And you can usually glimpse the generous green hills of the surrounding Shropshire countryside from some peep hole.

Tempting alleyways and narrow streets that follow the original  Mediaeval layout of the town.

It was pleasantly odd wandering around this time, realising that we only live on the other side of the county and this time would not be making the journey back to the Cotswolds. 

 

The basket weaver who always seems to be on the same market corner, no matter what day we visit.

 

The penny whistler who has been on this corner every time we've visited was also in his usual place. He's definitely improved over the last two years.

 

Buying some local cheese for a picnic later on.

And some naughty Chelsea buns for breakfast - as we are on holiday.

Eaten soon after, overlooking an appetising  view of lovely Ludlow.

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!