Isn't it wonderful, this countryside of ours?
Today, from 2,000 feet up, a glorious panorama unfolded beneath us; rolling hills sheltered crinkled clefts and creases. In the valleys sluggish serpentine rivers eased through ancient fields; leasows, meadows and crofts - a pattern of a myriad of greens and browns, sprinkled with cattle and sheep. And here and there, tied together by path and road and lane, those places we call home.
This is the place we call home:
.....and this is the place my predecessors called home. It's somewhere in the top centre. It has helped seeing the plots marked out. It's where Elizabeth Cross, widow of Sam Cross was a farmer of 5 acres. Sam was a lead miner but at the time of his death, presumably when too old to be a miner, he was a ratcatcher. An honourable trade or calling I like to think.
This is the village of Snailbeach:
...and on the western slopes of the ridge known as the Stiperstones is the village of Stiperstones: