A few rather crumpled specimens of the legendary Whinberries. Now I’d got these out of my system, or rather into it, I could enjoy the scenery.
Looking up towards Caer Caradoc from the south.
From the ramparts of the hill fort on Caer Caradoc the views are extensive. The next, smaller, whaleback hill to the northeast is The Lawley.
Presumably the Town Brook supplied Church Stretton’s water at some point as it incorporates an interesting old reservoir system.
The woods are full of intriguing structures, I think this is an old ice house.
Fidget Pie for lunch – delicious!
Cute coprophiles on Yearlet.
Looking back at Helmeth Hill from Three Fingers Rock at a case study in English upland ecology. On the left, semi-natural. Right: grazed and ‘improved’. Foreground: grazed but unimproved.
Ichneumon extensorius female, unless you know better, resting on my hand at the foot of Caer Caradoc.
Little Stretton from Ragleth Hill, Long Mynd opposite.
The Long Mynd, home of the elusive Whinberry.
Church Stretton from Ragleth Hill, Caer Caradoc Hill behind.
Over a Norman doorway into the interesting church there’s a Sheela-na-Gig. The poor girl is pretty worn and quite hard to see, I’ve fiddled with this photo to make her stand out.
Three Fingers Rock exposes some of the Pre-Cambrian volcanic deposits of differing ages and hardnesses that were tipped and thrust upwards by some unimaginable cataclysm to form Caer Caradoc.
Wild Moor to the northwest is unimaginatively named, especially by Shropshire standards.
The summit of Yearlet, weather closing in.
South Shropshire’s hills have charmingly Tokienesque ancient names. For example, left to right, The Wrekin (distantly on horizon), The Lawley (small), Caer Caradoc, Hope Bowdler Hill, Ragleth Hill, Wenlock Edge (distantly on horizon). Taken from Yearlet (465 m).
Watercolour sketch of Caer Caradoc, not by me. I had to rescue this from the bin, don’t tell her…