April 26th – As Spring is the (rather cold this year) warm up act for summer, the blossom phase moves to it’s endgame; the cherry is now finishing and soon, a profusion of white hawthorn will bring things to a close, but right now, that most beautiful of pink-white blossom, apple.

Such a joy to see in the sunshine.

April 26th – Another cold day, but not quite as bad as the day before; but it still feels like it’ll never be warm ever again. This is a most peculiar season.

Zipping about the Black Country on errands, wrapped up in woolly hat and scarf despite the bright sunshine it felt most odd. But there are spring flowers in abundance and every other element of spring is here. Just not warmth.

In Wednesbury, the tulips don’t seem to mind. Perhaps I’m going soft in my old age.

April 25th – Although still very cold for the time of year, there was no trace of snow when I rolled into Telford that afternoon. On the contrary, with the trees and hedgerows coming into leaf a little bit of urban magic has returned to my life: the lovely green tunnels that form the cycleways of the new town.

They are absolutely beautiful and a joy to ride upon…

April 25th – Well, that was a shock. A light dusting of snow early in the morning was soon burned off by the sun, but my goodness, it felt cold on the m morning commute. Snow and frost this late in the year is not that unusual really – but after recent mild winters it was a shock.

By the time I reached work the only remaining snow was on vehicles.

Thankfully, the roads weren’t icy, but the unexpected snow clearly made many drivers nervous.

I knew my complaints about the recent cold were not just moaning and I was on to something….

April 24th – And not far away, just drifting on the canal asleep, softness and colour of a different natural kind. Mallards are colourful birds – even the females who would ordinarily be considered plain have remarkable colourings if you look closely. This fellow’s head is a lovely shade of iridescent green.

As I watched him and took his picture, he opened one eye, regarded me sleepily, and closed it again, totally at peace, drifting in the breeze.

April 24th – A very cold day once more with periodic rain and sun, so typically April, really; I keep forgetting it’s so early in the year. However, as I passed Clayhanger bridge in the early evening, a patch of cowslips I’m fairly certain are there due to my previous guerrilla seeding forays, and it’s wonderful to see such beautiful delicate softness against the harshness of the traffic barrier.

Mission accomplished, I think.

April 23rd – On the canal at Hopwas, a swan nest. The male was stood on the towpath, alternately preening and scolding passers by, while his partner, safely atop the nest on the opposite bank fussed and turned her three eggs to just the right position before settling back down to watch and wait once more.

Swans are such truculent, fascinating birds.

April 23rd – In the sun, it was warm, but otherwise another cold, quite windy day with very bright sunshine. I headed out on a beautiful St George’s day and found the English countryside at it’s springtime peak. Trees verdant, coconut-smelling gorse lined lanes; bluebell woods were a carpet of strident violet and orange tip butterflies mated in the hedgerows.

Even the oak plum galls growing in profusion near Hilton were sort of beautiful, in the slightly unnerving way only  these parasite generated growths can be.

Again, I’d appreciate a bit more warmth, but not a bad day at all, and a lovely ride.

April 22nd – The late Lichfeldian touring cyclist and acquaintance Maurice Purser used to tell me you could see 7 spires/towers and/or churches from Pipe Hill. Maurice, who enjoyed such puzzles, had me scouring for months with binoculars in the mid-80s. What actually solved it for me was not careful scrutiny of the city skyline from high up here past Mickle Hills, but a map.

Maurice liked riddles especially if they were a bit misleading. At some point I looked at a map, and noticed that Aldershawe, the country house visible 90 degrees sunwise from this view had a private chapel. So whilst the riddle was correct, it was a bit cunning.

These days, Aldershawe is divided into smaller dwellings and you can’t see any of it from here for trees.

With a decent zoom on a reasonable day though, Lichfield’s churches, spires and rooftops still come alive, and a middle aged cyclist remembers this view as a young lad, with a leathery, weathered older gent telling tall tales of derring-do.

Wherever you are Maurice, may it be hawthorn free, the wind at your back, the sun on your face, and speed in your wheels. And a good cafe stop.

April 22nd – I headed out for an afternoon ride, still tentatively fiddling with some mechanical issues. I first called in to the Watermead swan family, to see if their clutch had hatched yet, but apparently not, but on the way, I found this longhaired hunter stalking a little mallard.

Annoyed I’d spotted him and therefore ruined his chances of a waterfowl for tea, he was hunting not 20 yards from the swan nest. Whilst puss here is no threat to the swans (or the mallard for that matter, despite the seriousness of his intent) I can’t help feeling he’ll be in for a short, painful shock if he fancies a little cygnet.

A swan peck on the head comes very sharp and swan parents don’t mess about!