Walking

Yesterday was one of our regular - if infrequent - social walking days, and gloriously warm it was for it. We met up at Elkstone, looked round the beautiful church - new to some of us - and then set off down the hidden valley towards Combend: though you are less than a mile from the A417, you can't hear a sound apart from birdsong. Turning up left, we reached the ridge road. After a look down into and across the Churn Valley, we turned back towards the cars. A short walk, not too muddy, and perfect for whetting the lunchtime appetite.

The Churn Valley

On Thursday morning, instead of my usual walk up the old track from Coberley towards Birdlip (shown in this photograph running from centre to bottom right), I found myself going round the edge of the big field to its North. This opens up a slightly different view. A long line of lime trees guards the field's road boundary, with Coberley village nestling in the trees beyond. Straggly Upper Coberley hides likewise in trees on the far side of the main Churn Valley. The two prehistoric tumps (just left of centre) look no older than the rusting farm machinery I passed in their lee. Beyond Coldwell Bottom, Bubb's Hill - in Elkstone Parish - presides on the right horizon. Behind me, hawthorn berries gleam in the sunshine, the Rosebay Willowherb - though no longer in flower - retains the attraction of its russet stems, and the Old Man's Beard shows promise for later on, when Autumn's colours have drained away. Unsurprisingly for October, I heard not a single bird.

St John's, Elkstone

We took advantage of a sunny evening and Mini staying the night to drive up to Elkstone before supper: she hadn't visited the village before, with its fine church surrounded by tall trees: the main attractions are the 12th Century nave and chancel, but my eye was drawn to the figures carved high up on the 15th Century tower. One (on the North-West corner) is playing the citole, while this odd fellow on the N-E blows his shawm. (Pevsner supplied the details.)