SOMETHING near to a minor miracle occurred last Saturday.

Jul 21 2007 by Mike Chapple, Liverpool Daily Post

That thingy that’s hot and yellow reappeared.

Now what’s it called?

Ah yes, the sun.

Not only that but, after what seemed like weeks of cloud and torrential rain, its return coincided with the day of the West Cheshire Beer Festival, an al fresco affair held in the heart of the lovely verdant countryside surrounding the village of Waverton, just outside Chester.

You know that there is a God on a sunny summer’s day in England when you can stand quaffing the finest real ales of Wirral and Cheshire in a traditional farmyard setting.

It was all the idea of Mathew Walley, founder of the Spitting Feathers brewery which is based at the aforementioned yard at Common Farm. He thought it was high time that the quality and variety of the local brews be celebrated and invited his fellow brewers to give it their best shot with all profits being donated to charity.

So besides his own, we were there to sample the finest ales of the Betwixt and Brimstage brewing companies from Wirral, Northern Brewery, Station House of Ellesmere Port, Weetwood ales and Woodlands.

It also offered the opportunity for Lady Penelope – who is one of those benevolent animal lovers who goes “aaaahh, bless” when a Rottweiler has taken a great chomp out of her proffered stroking arm – to see the denizens of the farmyard in their natural environment. So, with an ale in hand and holding an animated conversation with some puzzled looking pigs in a nearby pen, she was literally in hog heaven.

As was yours truly. We managed to get through about five halves each and, in the interests of fairness, tried different ones to sample as many of the beers out of the 25 being served from the long bar, which had been set up in the main barn.

The Pub Column’s favourites were the Betwixt Wild Admiral made from hand-picked wild-grown Wirral hops, a dark and moody Northern Soul Time, which would have been a floor filler at Wigan Casino and a richly smooth Rhode Island Red with a perfect head from Neil Young’s Brimstage.

As for The Lady, she loved the Woodlands Midnight Stout, a wonderfully mellow brew to swallow with a marvellous dry roast barley flavour, and the Feathers’ very own Thirstquencher which, given its title and the soaring temperature of the afternoon, was the first to sell out.

By the end of the evening session, all the other beers had followed suit with everything drunk to the last drop. The exception was Spitting Feathers Special Ale, which was brewed throughout the day and which the curious could watch through all stages of its creation until it was finally put to bed and left to settle.

Other simple pleasures contributed to making it a great day out – the music courtesy of local bands The Reads and The Moo Cows, the barbecued scoff and its enticing smell plus the £2,000-plus raised for assorted charities.

Oh and the farm’s treehouse nestling at the top of an old oak in a field out back which the Lady and I climbed into and decided that life on the ground was strictly old hat.

By the next day, we’d been brought back down to earth with a bump when the sun was pushed aside as the wind and rain rolled in again. But for a brief time, we were able to appreciate why living around here is so special and the 600 people who also went along must have thought so too.

Let’s do it again soon – and hopefully that bright yellow thingy will accept the invite as well.