The Changing Seasons

Looking east from Haughton towards Derrington along the old Stafford to Wellington railway line. It’s a peaceful lane these days used by walkers and cyclists, but steamers used to thunder up and down delivering passengers and goods. There are still relics of the railway – crumbling, mossy,brick bridges and tons of hardcore; rusting signs with thunderbolts and scraps of cable. The fields are dotted with sheep and the land rises to Stafford Castle and off towards the distant Wrekin. The trees droop with damsons and crab apples. Horses scratch their necks on gnarled gateposts. A pheasant takes flight spooked by a fox, perhaps. Nettles and foxgloves and cow parsley are everywhere. The lane bursts with nature and life. But autumn is already here. Leaves will soon crunch like cornflakes beneath walkers’ boots. The changing seasons are a beautiful blessing.


About richlakin

I write about things that interest me
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