Scenes in old gold: the Priory parkland above, then the Linden Walk and Field and a view of Windmill Hill:
The Cutlins path, sheep and parish church:
And now the townscape as seen from the allotment:
And a touch of green: winter wheat sprouting in Townsend behind the house (you saw it being sown HERE back in October):
And in the garden: Evereste crab apples, Hesperanthus, and Foxgloves (still flowering today):
And on Remembrance Sunday, Much Wenlock marked the centenary of the ending of WW1 with the lighting of a beacon on Windmill Hill, an occasion (on my part anyway) coupled with the fervent wish that here at least was one lesson from history that the ruling elite might learn from, though it’s showing few signs so far.
63 thoughts on “The Changing Seasons ~ November In Wenlock”
Beautiful montage. And sadly I share your less than optimistic view regarding war and rememberance.
Thanks, Ark 🙂 Pouring cats and dogs here now, so we’ve lost our golden glow (for now anyway).
Been hot/warm over here, with a couple of heavy downpours. Green is the colour of the day!
Your region has the golden look we usually see here in November. We started out that way, but everything changed as the rain kept pouring down and the temperature went from bitterly cold to mild, from snow to rain, from wind to calm and every day is a new day. It has been a completely CRAZY month. There really ARE no more seasons.
You really never do know what’s coming next. It was really warm here yesterday, but very windy which is an odd combo – along with drizzle.
Your photos with sunlight are so beautiful! Seeing sunlight here in November is rare – and usually fleeting!! What a wonderful contrast to our gray bleakness!
It’s flitted off now. Very dank and gloomy these last few days i.e. the kind of weather we usually expect in November, which sounds very much like yours.
Sadly, yes … but that’s November. I admit I’ve learned to see the beauty in a typical November day.
Wow, those are beautiful photos
I hope Much Wenlock is as peaceful and layed back as it seems.
It’s indeed a pretty sleepy sort of place. Except for once a year – this Saturday in fact – when the whole town centre is given over to the annual Chrismas Fayre, and the wide world pours in.
Nice photos! 😀
Many thanks 🙂
Beautiful golden glow of fall in your area similar to Vancouver foliage that now gone since the arrival of rain. Mind you, the rain warms up our temperature.
We have rain too. If the last few years are anything to go by, now it’s here it won’t let up much till March. Bad news for us allotment gardeners.
Did you say gardening? I moved to indoor potted plants for now until the weather gets better not until May next year.
I have two allotment plots across the field from the house, and there’s still lots needs doing up there. Squelch- squelch.
Beautiful photos Tish; the light and landscapes have such a sense of peace. Sadly I’m also of the view that we are condemned by those with the power to keep repeating the mistakes of the past. It seems so much was gained in the aftermath of world wars, and it’s being lost so quickly.
Thanks, Su. And yes it does feel as if good ground is slipping from under one’s feet. Even our MP – in his column this month in our parish magazine of all places managed to slip a bit of war mongering amongst his apparently thoughtful comments on the 1918 centenary. Along the lines of never fear. Our armed forces are well set to see off those who would threaten our shores. Now where did that idea come from? And who are these invaders?
That’s appalling, and slightly scary.
Philip Dunne, landowner, ex merchant banker, former Princess Diana chum and Tory.
So really in touch with ordinary people, and life in the armed services then.
Lovely, lovely and so very tranquil, Tish.
Many thanks, Lulu.
Beautiful late autumn images, Tish!
I’m missing autumn! Maybe I’ll need to change Warsaw plans for next year. The colours are magnificent, and your territory feels familiar because I’ve visited it so often in the blogosphere. Thank you
Oh Meg, how lovely. I actually popped over to your old blog today, but the house was empty! So brilliant to hear from you. And of course I was thinking of you again when I included the windmill photo. Tx Email: tishfarrellwriter ‘at’ gmail ‘dot’ com
Isn’t it lovely when she just pops up? I owe an email but there’s so little time! Why did I think I had retired to a peaceful place? Beautiful fallen gold, Tish 😃💕
Such lovely colours. We never see the likes of it here. The price for having no seasons to speak of.
Winter wheat? Is that an English thing? 🙂
And like Arkhenaten and you I am somewhat pessimistic…
Take good care of yourself memsahib.
Hello Brian. Ah now – winter wheat. You may regret asking. In the past we English used to sow our wheat after ploughing in January for spring germination. It’s much kinder to the soil and apparently causes less degradation. In more recent times farmers plough after the summer harvest, and sow in the following autumn for the next summer harvest. I’m not sure if this means that the harvest is slightly earlier, but anyway the habit means the soil never ‘rests’ and having been ploughed and the crop scarcely rooted, there’s the tendency for much soil erosion during our increasingly wet winter season. In the past the harvested fields were left in the stubble, which supported many birds and much wildlife too over the worst months. We do not make the progress we like to think we do.
Stubble… Interesting. In Brittany and Normandy, in the 60’s, a general trend started to rearrange agricultural lots. A farmer may have had 15 lots all separated (heritage and all that) by hedges. So in the name of efficiency, lots were rearranged, hedges were cut to allow tractors to pass through. As a result, all small predators, from hermins, ferrets, to small owls and the like lost their nests and hideouts. Then rodents began to multiply… No, we do make the progress we like to think we do… Tsss.
Thank you for the French side of this story.
Avec plaisir chère amie.
Getting some much needed rain here, finally. Love your foxgloves and the photos of same.
Cheers, Thom. Good to hear your rain is happily received 🙂
gorgeous photos Tish. I especially like the close-up of the linden trees, and the sheep. the light in that one is beautiful.
It was such a good day for light. I think the photos took themselves 🙂
Rustic foliage! extremely beautiful!
Gosh – how very pretty. The countryside in your part of the world looks so mellow and bucolic.
mellow, that’s a good description, Suzanne.
Simply beautiful, Tish! To be surrounded by such breathtaking sights ….
Yes, it’s a good lesson in remembering to be grateful. Thank you, Ju-Lyn.
It’s amazing that you have foxgloves! Have they had a second flush?
Absolutely they are. Most astonishing. They are growing under a rather dank wall – sheltered from wind but not from frostiness.
Last beauties…then it is all grey. Here the greyness is compact now. Thank you for the colours and warm light.
Happy to give you a colour burst, Ann-Christine.
Did you see you caught the Moon in her waning glory, above the village? Glorious. 😀
I was so pleased she looked in on us 🙂
The Linden Walk is beautiful in all seasons, but I think I have fallen in love with it in its gorgeous golden cloak of autumn. You have caught the light at its most mellow time. Is the allotment all tucked up for winter?
I love the Linden Walk in autumn too. It starts to become mysterious, and the leaves smell nice too. But as for the allotment, it’s betwixt and between. Still quite a lot of veg up there, and winter greens coming along for next year. Have got some cover crops over empty beds, and am piling compost up on others. But I notice the overwintering broad beans have started to sprout, and there are still lots of jobs.
Never a dull moment or a spare one either if you have a garden
That is so true. And even when one isn’t actually gardening one is thinking about it 🙂
All the time….
Great photos–thanks for sharing!
Wonderful photography! Very much enjoyed!
how lovely of you to be visiting so many of my posts 🙂
Yes delighted too Tish, I am trying to catch up with everyone’s posts.