Showing posts with label Caer Caradoc. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Caer Caradoc. Show all posts

18.11.21

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.

5.9.12

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.






25.8.12

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!