In Search Of Autumn

"The Sculpture Trail at a nearby craft centre is ending this weekend, and they have some different exhibits this year..."
"Well, we better go and have a look then."
"It would also be a good day to go to Spetchley."
And so the plan evolved.

Off we went, first to a nearby craft centre, located within converted farm buildings, with views stretching across the Severn plain to the distant blue Malvern Hills. This ridge of ancient rock serves as a guardian to the county, protecting us from the worst of the weather. True, snowmelt and flood water can affect the area immediately around the river, but, by and large, storms pass to the south or the north. By the time they have crossed over the Malverns, their cargo has been mostly offloaded.

On a mild late September morning, we appeared to be among the first arrivals and were free to wander around the sculpture trail, accompanied only by a couple of ducks that sounded as if they had stolen Jimmy Carr's laugh.

There were the inevitable body-in-the-lake piece and also some cute models.
I rather liked this sculpture with wind-blown hair, contrasting with the peaceful stillness of an autumn morning.
For me, it illustrated calm amidst chaos.
It didn't feel like yet another sexualised fantasy of a female body.
Instead, it felt more like a representation of a real person.
However, the artist may have intended something entirely different...










Next, we travelled by a cross-country route to reach our second destination. We have planned to visit Spetchley for several years but never got there.
Why?
Because you have to pay to go in.
The admission charge isn't exorbitant, and I don't mind paying for the privilege.
However, because there is a charge, you feel that you want to go when you will get the most from the trip - for the flowers and foliage to be at their finest, and for the weather to be sunny and warm - but not overwhelmingly hot.

The garden is closed between early November and late March. If we didn't visit today, it would probably be 2019 before we got another opportunity.

We had taken a sneaky peak at the gardens a couple of years ago, when visiting Spetchley Church. At that time we were working away through local ecclesiastical buildings that were in the care of The Churches Conservation Trust. The gardens did not disappoint. Recently money has been invested in the grounds, and in the Heritage centre we watched a loop of photographs of the renovation of this lake, when it was dredged and restored it to its original glory. The water is amazingly clear, so whoever masterminded the project did an excellent job.

We wandered around the lake, admiring the reflections of the house and autumn colours.
Benches were placed strategically for the views and visitors to the parkland sat contentedly in the peace of the parkland, disturbed only by the faint rumble of traffic on frantic journeys of great importance.





The cafe served a good variety of snacks. I averted my eyes away from the cake counter, but not before I had clocked the Coffee and Walnut Cake - though it always puzzles me as to why people ruin good coffee cake by adding walnuts? As you may have guessed I am not a fan of these gastronomic rocks.
Walnuts or not, I resisted cake temptation.

Afterwards we explored the walled garden - which was far bigger than I anticipated. Think of it as a horticultural tardis.
Around every corner, there was something new and different to see, and plenty of ironwork on view.








There is nothing like a nice piece of rusty metal to enhance a garden. We have a couple of feature items in our own flower beds, but nothing as old or grand as this! As this was part of a pair of full height gates, we could hardly sneak them through reception and pop them in the car boot... With hindsight they would look rather out of place in the suburban garden of a 21st-century house, so far better to leave them where they are and visit periodically.







Parts of the garden were clearly past their prime, but were still a place of beauty.
This stag appeared to gaze on disdainfully
as we trespassed in his kingdom.
Common interlopers were we,
paying a fee
for the right to traipse around his territory.












Other areas were enjoying their moment of glory.
I stood and marvelled at the glorious red foliage of this vine.










Even the Michaelmas daisies were past their best but were still attracting the bees.
I forever will associate these flowers with my Mum, as I remember her explaining to me when Michaelmas fell.
Her birthday was the day after that particular patronal festival.







Even the doormat looked interesting. The autumn leaves creating an everchanging irregular pattern upon the more regulated permanent pattern beneath.










Sadly you can no longer cross the ornate footbridge over the A422.
Whether the sides are too low to meet current regulations,
or the insurance cover too exorbitant,
or if it is in danger of collapse,
I know not.






Having toured the grounds as much as we had time for, we decide to become 'Friends' which enables us to return as often as we wish during the next year, plus get invited to garden talks. We also received complimentary tickets to visit Berkley Castle in Gloucestershire! A place I have not yet visited.

Today we finally went to Spetchley in search of autumn's glory, and we were successful.
How many seasons will pass before we return?
Time will tell.