To see out of our town, you need to climb. Then climb and climb again. The place was built on a steep incline below an even sharper eminence, upon which there once towered an impressive castle. Down below are flood plains girdled by hills, among them, on our easterly flank, the seven-mile ridge of the Long Mynd. Then looking north to west, scanning the England-Wales borderland are the Stiperstones, Heath Mynd, Corndon, Lan Fawr, Roundton and Todleth to name a few.
If you toil up the High Street to the Town Hall (and it is a trudge), you can stop just here to catch your breath, then look back to glimpse, over aging rooftops, the southerly hills. They have names like Colebatch and Sunny and Clunton.
Beyond the Town Hall there’s respite, and a flat stretch along Welsh Street, but here you are enclosed once more by houses. If you want a good view at the top of the town you must take the hollow way up Wintles hill.
This green lane rises steeply too. If you take it too fast it can have you conjuring the ghosts of Welsh drovers, those tough men who for centuries brought their sheep and cattle herds out of Wales, taking byways such as these on the long, slow march to the markets of England’s West Midlands. The well known routes were way marked with Scots pines, their presence signalling safe overnight shelter for men and beasts; the presence of a good inn and good water for the herds. There are still remnant pine spinneys at points around the town and across old drovers’ territory.
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At the top of the green lane there’s a field gate and stile. When we came up here a fortnight ago, we had to sit down before facing the next climb. It was a hot afternoon, which was one excuse, but mostly it was down to our Wintles legs being out of training. We’d not been up here since April.
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In places, the hill is so steep, I find myself resorting to all fours. But it’s a good excuse to stop and take photos, first of the Long Mynd…
…then of the town, scanning it for landmarks…spotting the parish church with the sun on its tower…
But this isn’t the reason I come up here.
This is:
…the hilltop field that overlooks the Welsh borderland.
And never mind the climb, this sight always takes my breath away – the beauty of these uplands.
And yet this year the land lies parched, the wheat cut two months early, and with talk in different parts of England of disastrous barley and oats yields. Which, of course, means reduced income for many over-stretched farmers, plus less locally produced food. On the other hand, some farmers (e.g. in the Cotswolds) have, despite the drought, produced excellent wheat crops with full bodied grains. Much depends on varieties grown. Other farmers say the hot weather has meant no need to treat crops for yellow rust, the bane of wheat growers, and that this has been a welcome saving.
But then we look at the state of the grass and think there’s livestock to feed. What about that? Many smaller farms, especially in Shropshire are medium size and mixed: i.e. arable and dairy and/or livestock rearing. The marginal land of the upland farms is anyway only suitable for rearing sheep. And while the sheep on Wintles hill look content enough, some UK farmers say their cattle are already eating their stores of winter forage. Worrying times, then, for some.
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The baked grasslands have me thinking of another life, and another land we lived in for seven years. In Kenya rain comes in two seasons: the short rains October to December, and the long rains March to May, which adds up to six month stretches without rain in some locations. I wonder how we would cope with this weather regime.
In areas like lowland Ukambani on the semi-arid plains south of Nairobi (Makueni County) even these rains are often poor or absent. And yet the farming cycle continues. Between 75-80% of the nation’s food is produced by women smallholders, and in a country where only 15% of the land is suitable for agriculture. This makes me think too. I remember reading of a young Akamba farmer whose fruit trees were flourishing in rainless times back in the early nineties. Not only had he planted in them in deep holes (a common local method for efficient hand-watering) but he had mulched the roots with layers of the volcanic clinker that lay about his fields. The morning dew, he said, percolated through the dry rubble.
Dry season pasture in semi-arid Makueni County (and an over-the-Rift view of Kilimanjaro on the Tanzanian border
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There are ways and means to deal with harsh weather events. There are certainly practises that have been forgotten when it comes to land and stock management. In the Welsh borderlands, for instance, it was usual to overwinter stock, and especially horses vital for transport and farm work, on gorse. This sprawling shrubby plant grows rampantly across the UK. If we think of it at all now, we probably consider it a weed, albeit with striking yellow blossom loved by bees. In the past it was also sown as part of crop rotation systems to fix nitrogen. The plant itself has high protein content, and an acre of crushed vegetation was said to keep six horses fed for four months. Also, gorse flowers all year, sweet-smelling blossom that horses like to browse.
Gorse meadows below the Stiperstones
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Evergreen holly was another winter foodstuff, and in the past, farmers maintained sturdy holly hedges along their field boundaries. Good as windbreaks too.
It seems we need to relearn the land: understand the effects of how we’ve treated it since the last world wars; think about the water table and aquifers and water course management. We may need to look back further still. There were times, from at least the Middle Ages, when water courses were managed in order to flood fields at winter’s end, keep off the frost and so produce early spring grass crops. There were a range of methods, from simple damming, to the management of engineered irrigation channels, also used for watering grass in dry periods, their operation overseen by local experts known as drowners. The deposits of river silt also fed the land.
For anyone who wants to know about Water Meadows, go HERE. It’s a fascinating technology.
And now this post has truly gone over the top. Here in Bishop’s Castle we’re in for another 30+ degree C day. For anyone who is presently overheating, perhaps some cooling views from Wintles top would be welcome:
Roundton Hill from the dewpond, another piece of age-old water management.
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A popular footpath over the top of Wintles Hill
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Copyright 2026 Tish Farrell
Lens-Artists: Over the top – this week with Egidio setting the theme.
That climb reminds me of a road at my Gran’s in Royston called Sun Hill.
Excellent training for Comrades Marathon!
, 😂
We need to practice it more often!
Thank you Tish for an excellent post…..I believe we need to re-learn much from our past..
Keep as cool as you can :)….Janet
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Thank you, Janet.
Wow, Tish, you and your husband are great hill walkers/climbers. Right now walking up a street that has an incline is enough for me! What beautiful scenery you captured.
Happy you could join us, if only virtually. Anne.
😍
Stunning landscape. You are strong, Tish.
Thanks, Rupali.
Tish, that climb is worth every step of the way. What a view! Thanks for sharing your beautiful images. I share the worry you expressed about farmers dealing with reduced crops because of the inclement weather. That African image showing the Kilimanjaro is a delight, too. Thanks for joining the challenge with this gorgeous gallery.
Thank you for that very lovely comment, Egídio.
Agriculture is so important. Thanks for your observations. Beautiful photos.
Many thanks, Rebecca. I often think we’ve become too estranged from the systems, and more importantly, the people who produce our food.
That’s true. We don’t know who grows our food, and often don’t know what the plant looks like that brings it to maturity.
First, and a wee bit eerily — two e-mails arrived at the same time, one announcing your blog post, and an opinion newsletter from The Guardian. You both wrote about the same topic, the summer scorch: Britain’s scorched fields mean a food crisis –
Lovely narrative and pictures, Tish. Thanks for giving us all the interesting and engrossing information. My favourite picture is the one where the uphill trail comes into the sunshine and just beyond that point is the big, beautiful tree. It’s a storybook tree that one, for sure!
Great post! xx
Many thanks, Pam.
Eeh, lass- you’ve worn me out! But you make some very sound arguments for reviewing land management. I wish more people would listen and respond accordingly. Tired of climate change whingers xx
The problem with the whinging, is that it achieves nothing.
Thanks, for coming on the walk, Jo. Tx
As always, your words enhance your lovely images.
Thank you, Marie.
Such an enjoyable post and I like how you said the post was going over the top as you let us hike with you (pause or go on all fours) and so interesting to learn about the middle ages and water management as well as other tidbits here. Prayers for all those impacted by this drought.
And I loved this line:
hollow way up Wintles hill
Hello, Yvette. Lovely to know you came along on this small hike.
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Beautiful images, I can see why you go there, so peaceful looking !
Peaceful it is, Pamela. Thank you.
Always the most interesting read and so beautifully illustrated. It is concerning how things have definitely sped up this year and yet nothing seems to have changed at the top, still no reaction. We know less now than in the middle ages, and it’s not just about agriculture…
Many thanks, Sofia. We’ve lost crucial connection in so many ways, and with it a sense of personal autonomy.
Great post, Tish…”It seems we need to relearn the land: understand the effects of how we’ve treated it” – couldn’t agree more, we really are going to have to wean or self off our dependence on fossil fuels, presto pronto
Many thanks, Sue.
A very different take on ‘over the top’ but a great one at that! I love the views that reward you for your effort in climbing up here – perhaps even more so because I didn’t have to make the effort to climb myself!
And you make such good points about the need for us to perhaps rethink farming techniques as well as the crops we grow. It seems to me that the country needs an overarching strategy for our responses to climate change, from farming to housing to health …
Thanks, Sarah. We’re in great need of having people who actually know what they are talking about in charge of policy i.e. farmers, growers and scientists. At the moment too much is driven by crass dogma.
Some agricultural historians would also be handy 🙂
Absolutely!
A much appreciated post Tish, with spectacular views. There will always be a bit of Shropshire in my heart. Hard to believe 30C in Shropshire. I shall blow hard and send you some of the Cornish mizzle I am experiencing at the moment.
Happy to give you some Shropshire views, Jude. It is a county with so many stunning landscapes. But as to Cornish mizzle – yes, please. It was so hot yesterday. But today it’s cool and overcast, which is good, but no sign of rain.
Your post has many good points, such as needing to relearn the land. Farmers of the last century would be shaking their heads. I didn’t realize that the lack of water is actually good in some circumstances. Lovely photos!
Many thanks for those thoughts, Jennie. I suppose we also need to rethink our attitudes to the natural world. The systems operating – from weather to the subsoil are highly complex, and very location specific.
Magnificent photos and reflections, Tish.
Many thanks, Flavia.
Beautiful views over the top, Tish! We have similar problems with draught and I feel sorry for the farmers. They struggle. no rain in sight here and hasn’t been for months.
Loved your farmlands and colours.
Many thanks, A-C.
Heath Mynd with its beauty spot…
…a Marilyn?
Beautiful post as always. Currently I’m in the Pacific Northwest where water is typically not a problem. Im not sure that people engaged in much long range planning in past years either. Well we can always pray for rain like they did in the old days.
Yes, forward planning of a sensible even essential sort
Start again: yes forward planning of a sensible/even essential sort has long been side-lined. Which seems especially bizarre given the rise in population and how everyone’s been encouraged to blitz on resources. Wishing you happy travels, Stephen.