Author: BrownhillsBob

I told the truth - but told it bent. Wandering around bemused and ranty since 2007.

March 30th – A day of rest, with a journey up to Tesco in the late afternoon. The rain seems to be settled upon us for the weekend, which is a bit of a blow, but the forecast clearly isn’t as bad as many had predicted with a return to snow and ice.

I guess I should stop moaning, really; at this time in 2013 there was still lying snow around and it was very cold. And we are more prone to white eEasters than white Christmases in this country. But it feels like I’m missing out.

In Brownhills, the waterfowl didn’t seem to mind. One swan partner of the nesting pair just up around the bend was idling, and came over, hoping for food, and was grumpy when none was forthcoming. The Canada geese, however, were just loafing, and paid me little heed. We stood for a while together, just listening to the rain on the water.

There had better be a decent summer after this…

March 29th – On a practical level, the bad weather is taking an awful toll on the lanes. Here, near Springhill this backlane like many has a ridge of wash down mud in the centre, and the tarmac either side is fracturing into potholes and covered in loose detritus and marbles that are slippery and prone to stealing your grip.

The roads now will be in a parlous state, and without much money to repair them, I fear for the condition of minor lanes like Whittaker Lane here in years to come.

We really need to tackle this very serious road safety issue.

March 29th – Again returning from Shenstone, again it was raining as as I alighted from the train. My heart was heavy and I didn’t fancy the wet ride home but something caught my eye in the shrub border to the platform.

An ornamental blackcurrant, in flower. It was dripping with rain, but that glorious pinky red was most vivid in the gloom. And for that, it made me happy.

March 28th – Daffodils. We all love them. I don’t think it’s possible to dislike these jolly, bright spring staples; yellow, white and orange, growing in gardens, verges, hedgerows, woodland and wasteland.

I adore them because they symbolise a new year beginning of light, long days, good rides and beautiful nature.

They are stunning in the huge displays they form, but while those are undoubtedly wonderful, I’d like to hear it for the solitary soldiers of spring – the loners, the brave, singular blooms you see dotted about.

Often on verges or poor ground, they may be the tentative start of a new patch in coming years, destined to multiply and impress from a single bulb that got there – who knows how?

They may be the last remnant of a patch decimated by disease (as large daffodil colonies often are) or disturbed by man.

They may not be perfect. They may be tatty, small or distorted. They may be eking out the last scrap of nutrition from a poor clump of soil, or harassed by traffic, animals or the wind, but they’ve done it, the lonely, single flowers. They put on a show for us.

Let’s hear it for the tenacious, bold one-offs!

March 28th – I’d been in Birmingham seeing a client and returned from Shenstone in a gap in the rain, down wet lanes, glistening and dripping in the odd light of a clearing sky.

The wind was against me and I was cold, but there was something captivating about the quiet and the sound of my tyres on the wet tarmac.

Winter seems endless this year. I just want to feel the sun on my face and the warmth to ride without a jacket a little.

Not too much to ask, is it?

March 26th – In Telford for a meeting, the footbridge project continues it’s bizarre stop-start behaviour, baffling to the uninitiated. Piles are bored and concreted now, sheet piling has appeared along the roadside, and a cavity there had been dug – maybe for a pier or lift-well. Steelwork has been driven into the earth and cut to varying lengths, and there a lot of noise and action. But no visible chap yet, and nothing on the Euston Way side of the station at all. 

I guess this is one of those puzzling projects that will just sudsy come together, but it’s very intriguing to watch.

March 26th – My goodness I’m having trouble keeping up with this this week, apologies – have no fear, normal service will be resumed forthwith!

Spring is coming to the hedgerows, edgelands and waysides, almost in spite of the lousy weather generally. Although we’re having some good days, mostly the weather is still grey and cold, and Winter is beginning to feel like the unwanted, hated guest that will never leave. 

Nature is doing it’s very best to push winter away – the daffodils are well on the way now, with the large beds on roadsides starting to come out, and to my surprise, ornamental prime blossom on a trading estate in Telford.

There’s brightness, as there always is. But you have to look for it. Hard.

March 25th – Lee Marston settling lakes continue to fascinate me. Created from old gravel pits in the early 80s, they are now more or less redundant as heavy industry is no longer polluting the Tame in Birmingham, and Minworth sewage works is a lot cleaner than it was; the dredging of the settled out toxic silt has now stopped and the site is becoming a haven for wildlife. 

It really is quite beautiful.

It’s still a live river, though, and where the weir carries the water downhill a notch, the plastic bottles and detritus still circle in the vortex here, a sign of our huge problem with plastic waste.