A walk around Bury Ditches - an Iron Age Hill Fort in Shropshire

The sun shone hazily and the clouds drifted by the hand gliders on the distant crag of a Shropshire hill and the wings of patrolling buzzards were tickled by the thermals. Time to get out again with Little Bird, Sweep and the dogs. Time to explore this new home of mine in rural Shropshire in our first spring here.

A sign I had seen on winter journeys across the county was for Bury Ditches, tucked away between Bishop's Castle and Clun in south Shropshire. Sweep despite living nearby had never been so it was good to tread new territory together in his homelands. The Ditches are an Iron Age hill fort dating back to 500BC and a superb example of a multivallate fort which is one with two or more ramparts as defence.

The fort was once all pine plantation until a great storm in the 1970's blew down many trees revealing the details of the ditches and ramparts and so the Forestry Commission now manage as a historic site.

We walked down a woodland path past carved tree folk and information to guide us as to how the fort would have looked. The dogs pulled eagerly and Little Bird tromped through heather lined paths to the summit of Sunnyhill where the oval lines of the fort can clearly be seen and walked along. Views all around were amazing, across to the Long Mynd, the Clee Hills and across to the Stiperstones back home.

The place has an ethereal feel to it, treading on a landscape shaped so long ago, what lies beneath these folds in the land. Folklore says that gold is buried here by fairies and  the lucky finder will discover one day as there is gold wire attached to the bounty.

But for us the treasure will be found here in late summer, plentiful purple winberries for gorgeous pies and the reward of fantastic views each season.

Forestry Commision Bury Ditches

Joining in with Country Kids to share my tales from a new life in rural Shropshire.

Autumn walled garden at Attingham Park

 Where to start with how I feel when I find a walled garden. The promise of horticultural secrets behind the brickwork, the feeling of history, the sense of escape and gaining some enlightenment. They are always clever and meticulous in their design and I find myself noting down ideas in my mind as I walk around - ooh I love that plant label or ooh look at that heirloom beetroot. Old veg varieties with great names like cosmic purple and golden ball. I imagine men with flat caps pushing their barrow around, whistling and off to turn the heated compost.

Here at Attingham Park, Shropshire there's been an exhibition around Digging for Victory, an insight into food production and the staff here during the First World War. The pumpkin scarring was a homage to the wartime phrases - the seeds of victory are the fruits of peace....
Also, how the women took up gardening roles during the war and today all the gardeners here are women.
 Voluptuous quince and her never tried but sounds wonderful offering of jelly.  Could almost be Mr McGregor on the path. Tomato wigwams, must try this neat and ordered approach.  The dishes on the endives are to blanch them, as are the bound-up chicory. This is to produce a milder flavour.  The flower beds still have plenty going on for November and a chalk sign tells us that these are used in the grand house and the veg are taken to the tea room. Just beautifully planted and if only I could keep my allotment as neat, especially at this time of year. It fills me with inspiration and a renewed interest in next year being the perfect growing season but also shows just how much work a garden and plot is, so I shouldn't be too hard on myself. The powerhouse of the walled garden supplying a huge estate can surely be replicated a little by me: mini plot to semi-detached? Wonder what they do with these poster once the exhibition has finished - oh would I love that one on the left for the garden wall.

A great aunt of mine was in the Women's Land Army and the exhibition has prompted me to find out more. There are The Landswoman magazines online to look through, very excited about finding them and can't wait to have a proper look through for more of an insight.

I'm pretty sure that I would have been a land girl with my spade and barrow, singing a tune as I walked to the compost heap....

For more garden tales go to How Does Your Garden Grow @ Mammasaurus, 

Hallowtide garden

 November arrived, a cold bite in the air so that my morning mooch in the garden was not accompanied by my scamp of a terrier who opted to keep his paws warm by the wood burner instead. The Hallowtide garden, the morning after Hallowe'en, decay and death, remembrance and a faded glory or spent Jack o'lanterns, carpets of leaves and the muted purples of the hydrangea.  Sunlight slowly warming hit the crimson leaves and pink hues of the sedum who have stretched like zombies arms reaching frantically across the pathway. A job to tidy up and reign the whole garden in for winter splendour but I'll allow myself the whole of November and December to do this. It can stay as a witches garden for the time being.

Bargain daffodil bulbs have been planted, tulips still required. Autumn bedding plants, yellow chrysanthemums, are in the zinc wall planters with nasturtium still hanging on - one even flowered this week, they are such troopers.
 On the small trees in the garden I need to hang some bird feeders, with small birds turning up daily my heart sinks when I keep remembering that I need to pop to the budget shop and get some suet balls or pellets for them.  Next door's rowan tree has now lost all its leaves and all that remain are some red berries, that the blackbirds love, but there are not many left. Don't worry feathered little lovelies, food is on its way.... Finally as I turn back to the house ready for a cup of tea, I see a solitary pink rose in bloom and one in bud. A last brush of summer to bottle up in my memories. 

How Does Your Garden Grow? over at Mammasaurus, for more gardens and autumn love.

Cragside, tantrums and oodles of tulips

It was a scorching day and we headed to Cragside in Northumberland which is a huge National Trust Estate, a Victorian delight and it really is massive. The walk over to the formal gardens had the dogs panting and a small child whinging. So much so that at the garden gate he erupted into the meltdown point of no return and I left him with his daddy and a rucksack of snacks. Ha, ha, off I skipped for some carefree mum garden viewing....until I realised I could still hear the crying across the tulip terraces.  Reunited with the dogs, thank you National Trust for allowing them into here, I looked around at the formal planting - lots of pink daisies and perennials ready to burst into life.   In the hut of tantrum by the gate of despair. In the Orchard House of happy mother looking at figs and hoping the terrier wouldn't cock his leg up. Tulip inspiration, I must buy lots of tulip bulbs for autumn for patio pots and planting in the flower beds, I'd love a trough of them at the allotment too.   Pink and yellow are a favourite combination of mine.   A bit happier heading up the steps and tears wiped away - nothing a bag of crisps and a biscuit won't cure. Normally he loves the gardens but ah well, another time. Kids eh?
Joining in with HDYGG?