BrownhillsBob

April 29th – Late evening, then rain ceased and the skies brightened, so I ventured out. In a damp, oddly-idiot strewn ride down the High Street, I realised that, due to relatively light traffic, I was recording the water features by Knaves Court and Morris Miner, and a good few of the serious potholes in-between – some of which have been there so long that they’ve evolved their own weather systems. It’d be really, really nice if we could get some of this stuff fixed for a change.

Apologies for the singing disc brake: I’m bedding in new pads.

April 28th – I headed up to Chasewater on my way to Burntwood, to check out the water level. Last week, the water was only lapping at the right hand side of the mound around the drain culvert – soon it will be submerged. I noticed the grass – encouraged by the earlier rain – now submerged. I have no figures, but would guess the water has risen by about half a meter. This is good, but don’t be fooled; for every centimetre the water rises, the area of the lake increases massively. The journey to 75% full will be a lot quicker than the one from 75%-100%. It is good to see, though…

April 28th – I see Mrs. Swan is still sitting on her nest at the canal bank at the back of Saddler Road, Brownhills. She must have eggs there, this has gone on too long for a dry run. One or other of the couple has been on that fantastic reed construction continuously for weeks now. I’m getting quite gripped by the suspense, now. Formerly, swans here have had very large clutches – one year, there was a mum with nine cygnets. I’m interested to see what happens now, and have started taking diversions down the canal just to check up. ho needs reality TV when you’ve got reality nature on your doorstep?

April 28th – I spotted this bird of prey hovering, almost totally still, over the heath by Anglesey Basin at Chasewater. He’s an interesting character. I know what species I think he is, but I’m unhappy about the details. Can any birders help? Many folk don’t realise that Brownhills is host to loads of species of birds of prey – from Owls to Buzzards to very occasionally, Kites.

This fellow was certainly an impressive sight. Sorry about the poor photos, it was nearly 7pm and the light was lousy.

April 27th – Prompted by what, I don’t know, but during the day several people reported that they’d seen a gully cleaner on the Lichfield Road at Sandhills. Since I’d been complaining about the state of the drains here for ages, I thought I’d check out the situation. Sure enough, about 60% of the drains are now flowing freely, with one flowing in reverse (clearly a blockage in the intermediate culvert). The worst ones were left untouched, as I guess they need the solid silt removing by some other means. The road had much less surface water, although it still wasn’t great, it was much better. There appeared, however, to be an issue with the other drains in the verge, which was contributing to the surface water considerably. All in all, not a bad result but it would be nice to see them all cleaned and back to functionality.

April 27th – Returning from work, I was caught in yet another rainstorm. I had to go to Brownhills, and it was grim. Traffic was backed up, the wind was gusting and I was sodden and sullen. As I came from Lichfield along Barracks Lane, though, a sight of summer caught my eye; anonymous, usually unnoticed, a gateway. Today, even in the pouring rain, it was green, verdant. Purple flowers speckled the long grass, bursting out around it. I marvelled at it for a least ten minutes. I’m beginning to think I may have a screw loose.

April 26th – I came home under a cloud, as I often do. This one, however, was meteorological rather than psychological. It was grim when I left Leicester, and trying to rain; my train was delayed, and then I got bumped onto the next one 40 minutes later due to lack of space. Arriving at Shenstone an hour later than usual, the black skies were gathering. My mood, and the outlook, was black. Yet the rain held off, and the countryside of Footherley, and the sight and sound of a healthily flowing Footherley Brook cheered me. Oddly, I arrived home in quite a good mood, albeit rather late. I guess that’s why I cycle.

April 26th – I love the backstreets of Leicester. The terraces here have a lovely, period feel and I adore the busy, community air. At 4:15 in the afternoon, sounds of music, kids playing, the smells of foods cooking. Urban life in all it’s forms. Following on from observations by Kate of Lichfield Lore and good pal [Howmuch?], today I spotted the built-in boot scrapers I had never noticed before. I just love the grace of the old corner shop, too. This was housing built to provide homes for the working class, by the industrial oligarchs. Oddly, I think they did quite a fine job.

April 25th – Everywhere you look, nature is getting it on. Trees are bursting into flower and leaf, and spring blooms punctuate the hedgerows and verges. Dripping with life, nature is really going for it now, the greens almost fluorescent in their intensity. The Horse Chestnut trees were barely alive a few days ago, now they are adorned with soft, fresh foliage and sharp stabs of blossom. Cherry and apple blossom dust gardens with pink and white. Lets hope the weather dries out a little and the bees can get to work.

April 25th – April is certainly the cruellest month of 2012 so far. Maybe I just got used to life in the dry, but commuting this week has had it’s difficult moments. I headed to Lichfield at dawn in a rainstorm, wrenching myself up the A461 against a merciless headwind. Making the train just in time, the inclement weather seemed to follow me to Leicester, where it hung around menacingly outside, like some school bully waiting to beat me anew on the way home. Fortunately, the trip home wasn’t so bad, just drizzle, really. But whatI did notice was the trees: clearly thirsty, there has been a sudden explosion in foliage and blossom. It’s an ill wind, and all that.