August 20th – Much as I hate the current fad for obsessively mowing the canal towpaths, I quite like that they seem to be leaving the reed beds alone for now (although I don’t doubt they’ll be next).
Here near the Pelsall Road in Brownhills, they are little oases of disparate species, havens for insects and other wildlife.
And they just look really, really good.
Do we have to keep cutting everything back? Put the mowers away!
August 19 – Some folk, of course, don’t even notice the rain and carry on regardless. After all, when you live on the water, what difference does a drop more make?
This cygnet – one of the Watermead family, still apparently in rude health – was just getting some greens as I splashed past near Silver Street.
I love the way these shoots are constantly cropped by the swans – it’s like their own little grazing patch.
August 19th – First really wet commute in ages, and the rain wasn’t cold, so it wasn’t particularly unpleasant. The traffic, though, lulled into the forgetfulness it normal befalls in summer, wasn’t so pleasant.
I hate the way summer rain seems to make drivers behave so oddly. I was glad to get home.
August 18th – The poor acorns are really hampered this year – the gall wasps really seem to have affected them. These seem very like knopper galls, which are caused by the wasp injecting a chemical encased egg into the acorn bud when it’s forming. The chemical causes the acorn to mutate, and inside, the wasp larvae hates and feeds.
There are now a good few healthy acorns, though, so perhaps it’s not as bad as I feared, but I do wonder why it just seems to be oaks that are tortured so.
August 18th – I was on the lookout for kingfishers – I’d seen a couple flying down the canal this week, and one tantalisingly perched, who scarpered quickly when my camera beeped as it switched on. Today though, in Pleck, I was having no luck.
Then I spotted why.
A patch of white was twitching and moving in the long grass on the far side of the canal – and on closer inspection turned out to be a tabby and white puss with a remarkable tail engaged in stalking something.
I don’t know what was holding the cat in such rapt attention, but it didn’t even turn to look at me when called.
My search for a good kingfisher photo opportunity continues…
August 17th – Another marker of impending autumn – the elderberries are turning to shiny black perfection at Shelfield. These days, these bitter fruits are in great demand for home-made wine and jams, but they used to be mostly left for the birds.
They’re such perfect, beautiful fruits.
August 17th – Between Darlaston and Pleck on the Walsall Canal, near James Bridge, the old turnover bridge for the defunct Anson Branch. It’s just as well the line is truncated now, as that huge pipe renders the turnover aspect of the crossing pointless.
It’s fascinating to see the bracken, buddleia and other weeds gradually dismantling the blue bricks. Gentle, oh so gentle hydraulic pressure gradually and steadily cleaving mortar from brick, using any crack or fissure where a scrap of nourishment can be found.
Nature is remarkable in it’s determination.
August 16th – I spotted him near the Marina at Northwood Bridge in Aldridge. Clearly en repose, hunting seemed to be done for the day and this elderly heron was content to let me take photos without being disturbed.
There’s definitely an Eddie Cochran thing going on there. You don’t see much of that sort of thing in the local avian community, to be honest.
August 16th – Feeling better, I pottered off to Aldridge to do some shopping on Sunday afternoon. On the canal near Northwood Bridge, an unusual sight; a dense, thick patch of what looks like miniature buddleia, but is in fact wild mint.
It smells gorgeous, and the bees are loving it. I never knew mint had such gorgeous flowers.
Meanwhile, near Clayhanger, another reminder of Autumn: Haws ripening well. They look plum and will see many songbirds though winter, with luck.
August 15th – Returning by train because I was short of time, I cycled from Blake Street through the backlanes of Footherley and Stonnall on a beautiful, slightly chilly evening. My energy reserves were very low, and the ride was hard going, which can only have been due to the recent ill-health.
Still, the sun set fire a glorious golden hour and the fields were rendered beautiful. Even the horse chestnuts hit by leaf miners were gorgeous in the late sunlight.
Is that autumn’s breath I can feel on my shoulder?
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