May 31st – A bright spot in an atrocious, wet commute home was spotting that the coos have returned to Jockey Meadow in Walsall Wood – and by the look of the lush meadow there, they have their work cut out.
Not that it seems hard work, browsing the bog for the juiciest grasses and shoots, and generally looking handsome.
I love these guys. So nosey, so proud. Good to have my friends back.
May 31st – The season of the dog rose is upon us. You can keep your fancy hybrids, your blobs of colour on thorny sticks; give me the colour and scent of a wild rose any day of the week – bringing colour in an uncontrolled riot to towpaths, hedgerows and edge lands all over.
These were just by the canal in Walsall near Bentley Bridge. A joy to the heart.
May 30th – I encountered the Watermead swan family right by the Watermead estate itself – and the cygnets, still at a remarkable 9, are growing well.
Mum and dad are clearly teaching their offspring well, as this young bird is already proficient in hand signals.
May 30th – I wasn’t well today. The long ride of the day before had maybe taken a toll, but I didn’t sleep well, and suffered a migraine in the morning. The day was a bit wolfish, too, with a strengthening wind, so I confined myself to a trip to Chasewater and back over the common and canals mid-afternoon.
I haven’t been this way for ages, and I’m sad, as it was absolutely beautiful; Brownhills wears it’s spring jacket beautifully, and the buttercup meadows on the farmland to the rear of the old Rising Sun pub have to be seen to be believed; but also at The Slough, the hawthorn blossom is beautiful.
I still felt damned ropey, but at least I felt better about myself.
May 29th – In the meadow behind Alder Mill, just north of Atherstone, this pair of huge black cocks.
I have no idea, but just like imagining the faces of hopeful Googlers finding this post at some point in the future and being somewhat disappointed.
Interestingly, these cocks are only a a few hundred yards from a place called King Dick’s Hole.
Think I’m joking? Check a map.
May 29th – A day of remarkable colour and beauty. I set off in the early afternoon for a ride not really sure where I was going, but headed to Middleton Hall for fuel in the form of tea and cake before heading southeast into the wind, over to Ridge Lane via Kingsbury and on to Mancetter, a place I haven’t been for years. From there, out to Sheepy Magna, then Orton on the Hill, up to Twycross and then down Salt Street to No Mans Heath. Returning in a glorious golden hour via Clifton, Harlaston and Whittington, the sunset over the railway at Hademore was remarkable.
It was a long ride but I felt power in my legs and really, really enjoyed it.
May 28th – I returned from Burntwood via Chasewater at sunset.
It was peaceful, and remarkably, I had the dam to myself. The dam, and the magic.
It’s been ages since I caught a decent Chasewater sunset. Pleased with this.
May 28th – A recovery day. I didn’t do much, but had to be at a function in Burntwood in the afternoon, so I pottered there in the sunshine of a breezy afternoon along the canal and via Chasewater. I’ll never tire of the stretch between Anchor Bridge and Chasewater; so varied in such a short run; urban gardens, rolling countryside. Green fields, open heath and factory yards. It’s all here, and all rather splendid.
My Horse Chestnut tree at Home Farm – my favourite, and my overseer of the year – is currently in glorious flower, like most conker trees. At the Chasewater Cottages, young rabbits regarded me watchfully from the buttercup-strewn lawn. And in a waterside garden, I loved momma and children scarecrows.
I’ll never love a stretch of canal more than this.
May 27th – The birdlife on the canals of Birmingham and the Black Country is wonderful at the moment – everywhere there are goslings, cygnets and ducklings, and the herons were performing well, too – I particularly liked this guy’s Eddie Cochran impression.
Iff these don’t make you go ‘ahhh’, you’ve no soul…
May 27th – I had stuff to do near Allcester, and finished early, so rode over to the canal at Browmsgrove and rode home all the way on the canals, through Birmingham. A great, though tiring ride, the canal was as fascinating and quirky as ever.
I loved the giant Lego in Aston, and was mindful of the slow men in the water. The boater dogs were charming, and I’d forgotten Brittania in inner-city Brum.
A great ride.
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