Shropshire

After The Harvest: Of Stubble And Straw

Come August and this year’s harvest has already been and gone. A good month earlier than usual. And somehow we missed it, we who live in the midst of rural Shropshire. In fact, when we drove out of Bishop’s Castle last Saturday, it was quite a shock: wherever you looked the wheat and barley fields lay shorn, the straw baled, or rolled in roundels, the remnant stubble pale and parched. Fields stripped.

How could we have missed so much activity and industry. Did we not hear the combines’ drone?

Along the lanes, too, the hedgerows had that dull and dusty out-grown look of late September. Dock and hogweed gone to seed: russet and deep umber shades of autumn. And again: how could this be? Had we been asleep, Rip-Van-Winkel-like, and lost a chunk of summer? Or had time skipped a month or two?

No. Simply distraction on the home front, gardening and household pursuits. Letting the world pass us by through weeks of day-on-day sun and rainlessness, which of course is the reason why the harvest was so early.

But now it has me reflecting on the beguiling looks of stubble fields, and thus a posting of photos of harvests past, of pared down textures, bare lines and simple colour palette of monocrop farming. I find myself attracted to the spareness of these humanscapes, although wary, too, of the high high-techery that produces such results. This is not the kind of farming I grew up with, the cut wheat stacked in stooks to dry, the arrival of the threshing machine, a monstrous sight over our garden wall, the contraption that, hung in sacking shrouds, throbbed and shuddered, spewing out clouds of chaff as it garnered precious grains from stalks and husks.

Hey-ho. More time slippage.

[The header and final photos were taken mid-September last year above Bishop’s Castle. The in-between shots are from Townsend Meadow, below Wenlock Edge]

Lens-Artists: Lines, colours, patterns Johnbo asks us to explore these tools of photo composition.

Red For Danger?

Actually, it’s probably the eyespots that see off birds that might prey on the peacock butterfly (Aglais io). But then the deep rusty red does show them off so well.

The peacock is said to be one of our commonest UK butterflies, although I’ve only seen one so far this year, and that was in our bedroom. I was more concerned with helping it escape than snapping it. These photos, then, are from our previous garden where they would often come in high summer to feed on Doronicum, aka Leopard’s Bane.

But how beautifully it has composed itself. And so it seems a fitting tribute to Becky who, for a whole month, has kept us so well amused with our respective photo archives.

THANK YOU, BECKY, QUEEN OF SQUARES

#SimplyRed Day 31

Heavenly Harvest

A week or so ago we were on one of our periodic walks to the Builders’ Merchants. It sits on the edge of town, part of a small industrial enclave whose buildings are screened from adjacent roads by a section of dense mixed woodland.

And this is what we found along the fence-line – a close-set row of cherry plum trees, laden with fruit.

The Cherry plum (Prunus cerasifera) is native to Europe and Asia and grown in the UK as an ornamental due to its early flowering. It is also used in hedging. (Which makes me wonder if this row is a hedge gone feral. There are a few of those in Bishop’s Castle and we should know.) Better still, the fruit, ripening between mid-July and September, is edible. I tried a couple of windfalls, fallen on the verge. Sun-warmed and juicy. Delicious.

Now, I can’t think why I haven’t been back to gather some more – before the wasps beat me to it.

#SimplyRed Day 28

Ladybirds In My Borders, Bees In My Bergamot

I’m back in the garden today. The old Africa album is taking a break. Although actually, thinking about days long past in Kenya has been a happy diversion from fidgeting about the lack of rain. Yet another month now with hardly enough to fill a watering can. But at least the days are much cooler and today quite overcast. In the meantime, the weather forecasting bods keep teasing and teasing, saying there will be rain two days hence, and then when we get there, ne’er a drop. Even my computer’s been joining in the game – a little message popping up saying ‘rainy days’ ahead. I now understand that ‘ahead’ is the operative word. And, of course, this being England, we can be fairly sure that one day we will receive a proper soaking.

Anyway, it’s not all bad news on the gardening front, so long as I keep up the regular watering. In fact the bergamot has scarcely needed any attention. For weeks now it has been a riot of bright purple heads. The leaves smell wonderful too, crushed between soily fingers. And as for the ~~white tailed bumbles~~ which, on closer inspection, are probably garden bumbles – talk about bee-lines. These days whole tribes of them are foraging among the curiously structured flowers.

I’m also very pleased to see a number of ladybirds in the garden, most numerously in the perennial cornflower (Centaurea). I’m puzzled as to why they are there, since I can’t see any aphid infestation, only ants. Unless they both ladybirds and ants preying on something too small for me to see.

Also spotted in the Centaurea are Common Carder bees, seen here with an incoming hoverfly:

And in the neighbouring Sunspot sunflower a Red-tailed bumble bee:

However, I am not so pleased this morning, to discover flea beetles on my Kabuki broccoli seedlings, planted out only two days ago. These tiny brassica-infesting bugs create a ‘scatter-shot’ appearance to all the leaves. Time to round up a few ladybirds and put them to work then. I’ve just read that they like flea beetles…

#SimplyRed Day 27

Six On Saturday ~ Still Waiting For Rain

The evening garden

This gardener is beginning to panic. After weeks of rainlessness, we’re now having a spike in temperatures – the peak today at 29 or 30 degrees, depending which weather forecast you consult. Thereafter, hopefully, we should feel a decline of several degrees, with finally a promise of rain next week.

But then we’ve had these promises several times over the last three months, with only one good downpour that yielded 8 watering cans’ worth from the shed water butt. And that was ages ago.

1. Hand watering is all very well, but it really only keeps plants ticking over. Or in the case of my onions and first sown carrots doesn’t. I pulled them up yesterday. They had simply stopped growing.

2. Also my single seed potato in a bucket had had enough by yesterday. This was one I couldn’t fit into my planting row, so I thought I’d trial it in a container. Stopping it from drying out was of course an issue. And the bucket itself was making it very hot. All the same, when I emptied it, I was quite impressed with this little haul.

The Rooster spuds in the ground are still holding their own for now, so I’m hoping for a reasonable harvest. We’ve eaten most of the Belle de Fontenay, and I’ve popped in a few peas where she’s left some space.

3. In the bean corner things are looking fairly hopeful. Beans respond well to mulching, and anyway make some of their own shade. I’d also prepared a compost filled trench for the runners in the winter. The dwarf borlotti beans, planted out in front, are also sheltering the runners’ roots. They don’t seem to mind being hot and are already forming pods. A slight error in labelling has resulted in some of the dwarf borlotti in the row requiring sticks, which is annoying. I have the taller variety growing up some trellis against next door’s garage – i.e. in the once horridly hypericum infested wall-bed on our boundary.

This year I have a real mix of runner bean varieties. For some reason I had problems getting any of my seeds to germinate well, new and not so new packets alike. I ended up re-sowing, and putting in a few Scarlet Emperor seedlings bought from the butcher’s to be going on with. My small row thus also has some white Moonlight, red Lady Di and one Painted Lady which has very pretty white and red flowers although they’re looking pink at the moment.

4. In the nonedible quarters, Penelope rose is still blooming hard, although the other roses have given up flowering now. I love her. She is like a wild rose, but with added flounces. And she smells delicious.

5. Also my favourite Morning Glories have begun to live up to their name and are putting on an early-day show. I’ve planted them out everywhere where there’s something to climb up, amongst the beans and sunflowers, up the trellis disguising the oil tank. Hopefully, if it does rain next week, they will really get going, and hopefully, too, keep flowering until the first frost as they did last year.

6. And another success has been the sweet peas. Although the ones in the front garden are now beginning to fry round the edges, this despite the watering and mulching. Also, given my non-orderly manner of cultivation – randomly up an obelisk and a trellis, they have grown rather short stems. My dear Pa would have been aghast. He used to grow his in regimented tall-cane rows, with set watering intervals to ensure evenly spaced blooms along each dead straight stem. Then he would lovingly count them, five and six big flower heads, usually. And then he would snip a bunch of the best and take them off to his latest lady friend. Mother rarely got a look in when it came to sweet peas.

I’ve tried taking a photo of ours outside, but they don’t look their best. So here’s one of the several small vases we have about the house. Wall-to-wall sweet pea scent, a soothing antidote to moments of over-heatedness.

Six On Saturday Please visit our host Jim. Lots of interesting plants in his garden today.

It Seemed Like A Big Day Out

We’ve not been gadding for ages. He who builds sheds has been much occupied during our rainless days, taking the internal house doors off their hinges and, one by one, stripping them down and repainting them. As may be imagined with a hundred year old house, there are many layers to remove. He’s working outside with wallpaper stripping gun which peels off ancient gloss and varnish like a dream.

It was during one such operation on the cloakroom door that we decided opaque glass panels in the upper door half would make for more light in the neighbouring gloomy utility room. Glass panels were duly ordered and on Friday we set off (from the somewhat isolated fastness of Bishop’s Castle) to collect them.

This involved a twenty mile drive to our county town of Shrewsbury. We’d not been there for over two years, not since our house selling days and foiled attempts to find a rental property there. In some ways the prospect of this outing made me realize how our horizons have shrunk, though not in a bad way. But once our life was repeated long haul flights between UK and Africa. Now, I feel I’ve been on a journey if we go to next door Clun, eight miles away or to Montgomery, just over the Welsh border. But then both those places are so lovely, each in their own particular ways, what else could one want?

One of the reasons the Shrewsbury trip turned into a haul was because the main route out of Bishop’s Castle was closed and we were sent on a diversion, wending back and forth between Wales and Shropshire. But it was a sunny day and the countryside, with its undulating hillscapes, glorious, so why should we complain. We even had a red leg partridge step into the lane in front of us. (It withrew unscathed). And there were buzzards and red kites high in the blue, wafting over newly mown hayfields, the roadside hedgerows full of wildflowers – honeysuckle, willow herb.

After such bucolic byways, Shrewsbury with its multiple bypasses (internal and external), huge traffic islands, and peripheral industrial estates and retail zones is something of a culture shock. But the old town itself, on a hill and cupped in a loop of the River Severn, has been going since at least Saxon times, and so has many ancient and scenic parts. These days, too, it is cafe culture central. Just look at this LINK.

And one of the best locations for eating out is Shrewsbury Market. Which is where we headed (after negotiating the ring roads and industrial quarters) for a spot of lunch at the Moli Tea House. To say their exquisitely served Asian offerings are delicious is an understatement – tiny Chinese dumplings with dipping sauce, delicate meat balls served in a crisp lettuce leaf wrap. Heavenly.

Later, we wandered around the stalls of artisan bread, fresh vegetables, farm eggs and meat, looked at what people were enjoying in the other eateries, bought some fresh fish. Then headed back to our border refuge, to the Castle that has no castle, this time on the truck-roaring A49, the main highway south, which is quicker if further. We were anyway glad to leave it behind, back to the quietness of our home terrain and a restful cup of tea.

#SimplyRed Day 9

Enter The Dragons

Yesterday I posted scenes ‘live’ from the Bishop’s Castle carnival, today we have photos from another of the town’s annual parties, last year’s Michaelmas Fair. It begins with a parade in which Chinese dragons and drummers steal the show. (Sadly no competing Welsh dragons in spite of the town’s closeness to Wales, but then you never know what might turn up this year).

As happened yesterday, the weather was cool and gloomy, but there was no dampening of the spirits; not once the Rajasthan Brass Band took to the streets…

…and the town’s own Shropshire Bedlams Morris men stepped out, all jingling bells and vigorous stick clashing…(More about local Morris heritage here)

The Michaelmas Fair takes place all over the town, in the pubs and park and church halls. A stage below the Town Hall hosts live bands all day. There are street stalls and street food, bubble blowing, fire eating, an afternoon parade of steam engines, tractors and classic vehicles, headed by Clive the elephant, another star attraction. (The town’s elephant connection is explained in a previous squares challenge post here.) And the whole is rounded off with an evening lantern procession through the town, all lanterns made by Castle folk.

I didn’t catch Clive the elephant last year, but here’s a photo of him from a sunnier fair:

This year’s fair is on the 20th September. More details HERE. But before that there’s another big fun event: the Party in the Park on the 19th July. A day of non stop live bands, workshops, and family activities from noon to 10.30 pm. Sometimes life in this small country town can sound a tad exhausting.

And on that note, back to dragons, this one from the 2023 lantern parade:

#SimplyRed Day 6

Today’s The Day ~ Bishop’s Castle Carnival

There are times when Bishop’s Castle might strike one as a sleepy place, but looks can deceive. This is a town that knows how to party, and there are several festivals through the year. Today is carnival day. The parade kicked off at 1.pm. headed by the town crier caught here on his cell phone – a pleasing conjunction of time past and present on the communications front.

Fat Cat Brass followed on his heels, setting the tone – full-on jollification despite the cool and gloomy day.

And then came the floats, with much emphasis on growing and farming and country living: lots of vintage tractors, classic vehicles, steam engines and the timber merchants’ smart fleet of trucks hauling the big floats.

After wending around the town and down our street, the parade headed for the park for an afternoon and evening of fun and games: bouncy castle, live music, falconry demo, sheep show and mini digger competition not the least of it.

And now in late afternoon, the sun has come out. A grand day out all round then.

#SimplyRed Day 5

Six-Word Saturday

Blown Away

The first opium poppies have bloomed their best, the bees done their work. Seed capsules are primed, the fancy skirts discarded, blown off on the breeze.

If I leave them, the pods will ripen until crisp and brown as walnut shells. The merest tap will have them shedding seed like shaking a salt cellar. And come next summer, they’ll be back again. Or maybe not. Poppies, I find, are a capricious lot. Love me while you can, they say.

#SimplyRed Day 4

Ladybirds ~ The Gardener’s Pest Controllers

Much like poppies, ladybirds come with instant eye-appeal. Who knows why: the shiny red wing cases that look like polished enamel; those striking black dots. From infancy I was anyway brought up with the notion of them: those lovely Ladybird children’s books so exciting to receive; cosy Ladybird cotton jumpers (items now known as sweatshirts) in bright primary colours. I had a red one, the colour of the ladybird. And a yellow one, the colour of this Golden Marguerite (Anthemis tinctora).

These days, as a more than grown up gardener, I mostly appreciate their appetite for aphids. They are at their most voracious during the larval stage, when they are distinctly creepy beasties: the minute Darth Vaders of insectdom:

https://www.field-studies-council.org/shop/publications/ladybird-larvae-guide/

So do not squash!

Some of their kind also eat scale insects and feed on mildew, a fact I’ve only just discovered as I’m writing this.

And another surprising find (to me anyway) that according to the Woodland Trust site there are 26 kinds of ladybird in the British Isles, with our gardens likely to be host to several species at any one time. I’ve only ever registered the existence of three or four types, including the Seven-Spot in the header photo. One of the commonest is an incomer from Asia – the Harlequin, which may be black with red spots or vice versa. It also eats aphids, but may at times predate on native ladybirds. Advice seems to be to let it alone. Trying to eradicate it might involve too much mis-identification of native species which have similar livery.

Looking now through my allotment photo archive, I’ve found I’ve snapped a Twenty-Two Spot ladybird. At least I think that’s what it is. It’s on a dahlia leaf and is one of the mildew eating varieties.

Seven-Spotters in action on an aphid colony

#SimplyRed Day 3 Becky has us all in clover today.

Tish Farrell

Writer on the Edge