Tag: Stonnall

May 2nd – Spring is on her throne at last. In bud, in bloom, in leaf. Everywhere – from the glorious crimson tulips at Telford Central Station to the cottage gardens and shady tracks of Stonnall. Could be a tad warmer, but the sun and relatively still air is welcomed by all except my hay fever. But that’s a price well worth paying.

Spring, welcome, come in. Stay awhile, and bring your friend Summer with you, please. Didn’t see much of either of you last year…

April 17th – Someone asked me on twitter this week why Lynn Lane between Shenstone and Stonnall was closed. I had no idea it was, so tonight, I took a detour and checked it out. The lane is, indeed, barriered off at both ends, but roadworks that seem to have been taking place between Thornyhurst Lane and Raikes Lane seem to have finished now. There was certainly nothing to justify the closure when I passed this evening.

They may well be going to dig another hole, but one can’t help wondering why a road with no hazards remains shut.

April 15th  – the gorgeous sandy soil of the north east side of Shire Oak’s bunter sandstone ridge gives Stonnall its charm and character. This light, thin and variably fertile soil shows off it’s characteristics best when ploughed and harrowed, as this field has been south of Mill Lane. The colour – somewhere between chocolate and ochre, varies across the contours. Last week, there was snow lying in the lee of that spinal hedgerow. Now it’s spring.

What this does demonstrate well is that the old boys who planted these hedgerows – miles of which were grubbed up hereabouts in the post war decades – really knew their stuff. Note the step from one field to the next; that’s caused by centuries of wind erosion. The hedges – by virtue of clutching roots and obstructive foliage – break the wind, and act like groynes. This effect can also be seen on Grove Hill and many local ridge boundaries.

The landscape reads like a great book, sometimes.

April 5th – While I was battling through the week, so was nature, but in a grander, more impressive way. Come Friday evening, the snow remaining from the heavy falls of two weeks previously was lying only where the heaviest drifts had been. On the hill to the south of Mill Lane, the ridge-step hedgerow had clearly been a snow trap, and was dissipating itself in a beautiful way.

Coming through underneath, the keen, bright emerald green promise of a new crop. Winter melts as spring appears.

April 3rd – A great sunrise today, clear, and bright, but cold, with the kind of chill that hurts your forehead – but still the sharp, evil, lazy easterly. The snow is gradually fading away, and by my return this evening, it had mostly gone. 

My muse this morning – Grove Hill, near Stonnall – looked beautiful. Some say it’s a mythic, pagan place, and it’s certainly beautiful, and a known landmark for miles. To sit under that lone tree on a summer evening is a joy to the heart. I adore this place.

March 26 – A stunning sunset, which as Jayne Howarth noted on Twitter, gave a spring-like light that wasn’t justified by the conditions. It was cold, and brisk as I cycled the backlanes from Shenstone, and the coming darkness felt threatening and sharp as I cycled home with the wind behind me. The roads were clear and largely dry, although the thaw had evidently set in during daytime. The sky changed colour a number of times, and it was thoroughly beautiful. 

A gorgeous end to what had been a somewhat trying day.

March 25th – It promised to be a thoroughly dreadful journey home. Checking travel information just before leaving work, there was chaos at New Street, with overhead line difficulties causing mass cancellations and a reduction to Sunday service on all lines I could get home from. Pitching up a the station, I went for a Walsall train, then heard an announcement for a Lichfield one. Just making it to the right platform, I easily climbed aboard a 6-carriage set which had seats to spare. I actually left New Street before I would normally. This was nice and rather odd. I was very, very lucky.

Alighting at Blake Street, I found the light to be fantastic and even the backlanes clear. The wind was still sculpting powdery snow into impressive drifts, and coming from the northeast, was a distinct and formidable crosswind. 

As Laura Marling says ‘I’ll never love England more than when it’s covered in snow.’

March 5th – The sunsets are great at the moment. The welcome lengthening of the day, combined with some dry, misty weather is making the local countryside beautiful at dusk. Winter is still ongoing, as the bare trees indicate, but everything feels like it’s ready to go. Crocuses and daffodils are in bud, hedgerows are smattered with small specs of light emerald, and the sun, when it comes it feels warming.

After a wet, cold winter, this is just what’s needed. It warms the shoulders and the heart.

March 4th – I came home from Shenstone at sunset. They day hadn’t improved much – coming back necessarily late, my train ticket was invalid and I had to buy a second. All the way back I’d been fighting the kind of tiredness that repeatedly pulls you into slumber, then cruelly snatches you awake, momentarily terrified. I just wanted to be home.

It was chilly, and slightly misty as the sun went down. The countryside around Stonnall, Lynn and Sandhills looked gorgeous in the subtle light and mist. I was still tired, but I couldn’t stop taking pictures. I love the outdoors, even when I’m nearly beaten. It gives me strength.

I note that at Home Farm, at Sandhills, the field that was potatoes last year has been prepared with long, flat, plastic film encased beds, suggesting something delicate. I’m wondering if it’s connected with the pipework I saw being installed last weekend. The geometry and precision of the automated planting and covering is stunning. It’ll be interesting to see what crop emerges.