August 26th – In the backlanes between Stonnall and Shenstone (I’m not going to say where) there are a secluded row of apple trees. I’ve known of them for years, and they always seem to grow decent fruit. This year, they’ve excelled themselves.
The apples aren’t huge, but there are lots of them. There are several varieties, Cox’s, Russets, and I think Granny Smiths. The Russet I nabbed was sweet, juicy and ripe, the Cox too.
I always love to see these apples.
September 13th – A grim commute in both directions. The wind and rain had arrived and seemed set to be in for the weekend. I’d suffered a thoroughly enervating week, and had had quite enough. Train delays and overcrowding made for a tough journey home, and I was glad to be coming back along the quiet lanes between Shenstone and Stonnall with a following wind.
The green, the fresh air and smell of the rain cheered me, but it was oh so hard. It’s a long time since I was this glad of a weekend.
February 25th – A dull, grey, chilly day. Again, I came back via Shenstone to avoid a punishing northeasterly wind, but also hoping to find some inspiration in the nascent spring. Sadly, there was none in the dull, grey, darkening lanes, but the spirit of the Footherley Brook remains.
April, come she will, but she’s a long time arriving.
BrownhillsBob's #365daysofbiking 