Yesterday was such a lovely day that I took my stitchery and a packed lunch and my camera and went to the sunken flower garden in Shrewsbury’s Quarry Park, the Dingle. This is the view from the bench where I ate my sandwiches:
Here are a couple more shots of the garden:
Outside the Dingle, there was a fun fair starting up for the day. Even a small fun fair is a feast for my camera. You’ll find the whole set of yesterday’s pictures on Flickr, but here are a few to give you a taste:
I’ve not taken many photographs of late – I’ve been busy working on drawings for a forthcoming art show in my spare time, and catching up on housework. But this morning, an intermittantly-sunny Sunday morning, I took the opportunity to wander along the riverbank to the Quarry Park with my camera. The Dingle Gardens were looking fine and full of colour, as they usually are, but I was far more interested in the shapes and textures of the marquees which are in the process of being erected for the Flower Show next month.
It’s May. Time For another update on recent activity. First up, on May Day itself: Eric, my father had his 90th Birthday. Here he is on his special day:
My sister was visiting from London. So along with my mother and I the whole family were together. Friends kept turning up with presents and cards, relatives phoned. After lunch – Dad’s birthday choice of sausage, mash and peas, cooked by my sister – he found it a bit overwhelming. So he went off to his den for a spot of quiet computer programming.
‘Tis of a fair young maiden, and she lived down in Kent,
Arose one sunny morning, and she a nutting went….
You can’t have May without a spot of morris, can you? So I’ve been adding The Nutting Girl to my guitar repertoire. I am enjoying learning new songs and tunes, especially when I have worked out the chords for myself, as I did with this one. Thanks to inspiration from Graham Higgins, I’ve been tackling La Mer – now that’s tricky to master! But I am getting better at it. I started with chords off the web for La Mer, but Lady Franklin’s Lament is another one I have worked out for myself. It’s a real joy to have a guitar on hand again.
Shropshire Community Flickr Group are doing a ‘Photo a Day’ challenge for May. (Last year we did one in April.) I’m not always remembering to take a photo until the light is fading, but so far I’ve managed to keep up, although they’re not all quality shots! Here are a couple of them.
The rest are accumulating here.
READER, whoever thou art, prepare to meet thy descending God. Erelong the clod’s of the valley shall cover thee: and the worms feed sweetly upon thy flesh. Be ye always ready:
Since no device, nor work is found,
nor faith, nor hope, beneath the ground.
SEEING WE ARE AS GRASS,
OR LIKE THE MORNING FLOWER;
IF ONE SHARP BLAST SWEEP O’ER THE FIELD,
WE WITHER IN AN HOUR.
As a tribure of sincere affection, a memento of true friendship and a memorial of a faithful Christian, N. BRADBURY erected this monument.
While I was in Lichfield on the coach trip (mentioned a couple of posts ago), I wandered into the yard of R Bridgeman & Sons. Charming old buildings, decorated with a strange assortment of old bits of bass relief, broken statues and the like. I didn’t have time to stay more than a few moments. I took few photos, including this one, and continued up the road to the cathedral.
Now I have processed the photos and read this inscription properly. Isn’t it wonderful? Does anyone know any more about it? There’s no date and no mention of the person the memorial was made for. Was it a reject from the stonemason’s workshop?
I couldn’t afford to go away for a holiday this year, but I took a week off work and went out and about as a local tourist. Have bus ticket, will travel…
I started on Thursday 10th September with a trip to Whittington on the number 70 bus. A beautiful morning. I wandered around Whittington Castle and sat in the sun with a coffee, enjoying the sunshine and watching the ducks and swans.
Then I went on to Oswestry. I didn’t stay there long: wandered around the town centre, bought some food and picnicked at the bus station while waiting for the bus back home. Another lovely ride.
The next day I was back on the number 70 again, this time just as far as the Three Pigeons at Nesscliffe. A pleasant early-morning ramble up and around the hill. I saw Kynaston’s Cave — once the haunt of a notorious local highwayman. It is not open to the public because it is home to a large colony of bats.
The colours of the sandstone on Nesscliffe were wonderful. I was a little disappointed that the morning mist did not lift enough to give me much of a view from the top of the hill, but it was lovely to walk through the peaceful woods.
Saturday was a Heritage Open Day. I caught the 96 bus to Atcham to meet up with Natasha another member of the Shropshire Community group on Flickr, and to visit the National Trust property Attingham Park which was one of the places offering free entry for the day. We were given a short tour of the interior by one of the conservators, who was most interesting and amusing. As well as giving us the history of the house and its furnishings, she looked at things with the eye of one who has to clean them and protect them from deterioration. (The large, new, wine-red carpet in the picture gallery came in for particular criticism. I can imagine how much work it is to keep it immaculate – that colour will show every mark.) After our tour, we took a walk through the shrubbery and woodland around the central paddock, and
then went into the kitchen garden and the walled garden. Cameras came out, butterflies and other insects got chased and flowers and vegetables photographed.
A sweet song coming from deep inside a sculpture made of razor-wire turned out to be this little robin. It was not trapped, just using the wire as a place to sit and sing.
Sunday was a stay-at-home day, catching up on chores. I’ve already recounted Monday’s adventure in my last post.
Tuesday looked like it would be another grey, cool day, but by the time I had taken a bus to Shawbury and walked past the RAF station to Moreton Corbet Castle, the air was warm and there was a long fine interval, ideal weather for photographing the ruins. I visited the old church next to the castle and also had fun trying to photograph the pigs and piglets belonging to the Castle Farm. By the time I’d walked back to Shawbury, I’d had the best of the day.
Wednesday was another stay-at-home day, but Thursday was the major outing of the week, a day trip to Lichfield in Staffordshire, by coach, organised by the Friends of Shrewsbury Borough Museums.
We started at Dr Samuel Johnson’s birthplace, on the eve of his 300th anniversary. The birthplace was full of ladies arranging flowers for the celebrations. After a quick look around there (I’m not very interested in Johnson), I went to Lichfield Cathedral. A wonderful place. Dedicated to St Chad, an early bishop of Mercia, it has three fine tall spires and an amazing wealth of high-Victorian sculpture decorating the medieval building. The West Front is packed with figures. Inside it is equally fine, with a cast-iron rood screen, all painted and gilded and decorated with musical angels. The Victorian restoration of the cathedral was done by Giles Gilbert Scott. It’s a sight worth seeing and for all the ornamentation and decoration, it excudes calm and peace and rest.
The East Window has been removed for restoration, and stonemasons are busy repairing the structure. This made the inside a little too dark for hand-held photography, but the outside was a treat! I must go back sometime when the tarpaulins are off and the window has been replaced in the repaired tracery.
After an pleasant lunch in a little restaurant adjacent to the cathedral, it was time to visit Erasmus Darwin’s house. The house is nicely restored, and gives a good idea of the character and interests of Charles Darwin’s grandfather. This interested me very much. A fascinating man, and obviously a great influence on Charles. In the close in front of the house there is a beautiful garden, a mixture of herbs and flowers and medicinal plants, full of colour and interest. More food for the camera! A fine day out and a fine end to my holiday.
A few months ago, my Australian friend Kevon Kenna went on a driving holiday from his home in Melbourne to Broome in Western Australia. He sent me a lengthy trip report and some postcards. I promised him I’d visit the town’s namesake, Broome in South Shropshire, and take some photos in return. Yesterday morning, I caught the Heart of Wales Line train from Shrewsbury.
Kevon travelled to Broome by car – a journey of several days via Alice Springs and Kununurra in the Kimberley. My journey to Broome took less than an hour, and passed through Church Stretton and Craven Arms. A party of ramblers on the train were also getting off at Broome, so the single platform was quite crowded. A few moments later, they had vanished onto a footpath.
The Railway Terrace dates back to Broome’s heyday as a rail depot. This was the nearest access to the rail line for the village of Aston on Clun, and Broome is little more than an offshoot of Aston, which is just up the road.
The post lady is delivering the mail from her red van. The man has walked into Aston to pick up his newspaper.
The pub at Broome shows the hamlet’s railway origins.
A few minutes walk along a quiet road with flowers and butterflies in the hedgerows brings me to Aston itself.
Aston on Clun has a couple of unusual round houses. This shot shows one of them, along with the garage, the village shop and the inn. It’s a view that hasn’t changed a great deal for over a century.
You can compare it with Old photos from Shropshire Archives
And here’s the inn sign. A link with Australia.
Aston is an attractive little village. Its main claim to fame is its Arbour Tree, which is decorated with flags every year in May on Arbour Day. The tree is a native Black Poplar, a cutting of the orginal tree which came down in a storm a few years ago. There are twelve flags decorating the tree this year.
Including these two, sharing a flagpole:
Yes, this is a small village in the Clun Valley in South Shropshire, not a pearl-fishing town in western Australia, but somehow it seems there is a touch of Down Under even here.
More pictures of Broome and Aston on Clun from my trip on Flickr.
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