July 18th – I cycled to work in Darlaston in a rainstorm, for what seemed like the thousandth time. I came up through Shelfied and Walsall with a heavy heart; the wind was against me and I was getting rather wet. As usual, I dropped on to the canal at Bridgman Street, and the rain ceased for a while and the the skies brightened. Near Pleck, I came upon this brood of ducklings, huddled together in the grass for warmth, their mother quacking reassuringly from the canal. They were quite tame, and I feel sure I could have reached out and picked one up. 

Further on, at Bentley Bridge, I noticed what can only be the sad remains of a Black Country Funeral, like a Viking one, but with less ambition. How unfortunate…

Author: BrownhillsBob

I told the truth - but told it bent. Wandering around bemused and ranty since 2007. View all posts by BrownhillsBob