May 23 – I get a bit tired sometimes of defending Brownhills, Walsall and the Black Country. People call all three dirty, unpleasant, polluted, ugly.

All these animals were seen on my journey to and from work today. There can’t be many urban situations where you pass deer and herons on a Monday morning, can there?

I particularly liked the cygnet preening, just like it’s mum.

I love this place.

May 22nd – Another good riding day, but I was a bit tired, and didn’t go as far as I’d hoped, topping out at 55 miles. The sun was lovely, but a sudden gusty wind between about 2:30 and 3:30 was puzzling and difficult. I went up around Blithfield Reservoir, called into Abbots Bromley for tea and remarkable cake, then up to Newborough and back through the Needwood Valley. 

The stunning work of Oldrid Scott on that amazing church never ceases to amaze.

The views and hedgerows are beautiful right now – but does anyone know what the pink-flowered tree is? It’s like a horse chestnut tree, but different. It’s absolutely lovely.

May 21st – On my way back via Chasewater, I spotted the huge Canada goose family near Catshill Junction; remarkably, 12 of the 13 chicks survive, with mum and dad being a good bit more protective and aggressive than formerly – one suspects the loss and protectiveness are related.

The young are growing well though. Lovely to see.

May 21st – Up on Cannock Chase, I went looking for a fire tower I’d heard had been rebuilt. These watchtowers are scattered throughout the forest, and I thought they’d slipped out of use; when I last visited this one up near Sow Street high on Wolseley Park in 2011, it had collapsed in the bad weather and was nothing more than a pile of rotten wood. Tipped off by fellow local historian Dave Fellows, I discovered in the week that it had been rebuilt – so I went to check it out.

Sadly, it’s gated at the top so you can’t get in, but it’s a curious thing with an otherworldly feel. As the rain began to fall, the clearing the tower sits in – on the junction of five or six firebreaks for best visibility – came alive. Solitary, quiet apart from the rain on leaves, I realised how much wildlife was around on a dull day; I could hear deer in the wood, and the fungus and flowers were wonderful.

Then the heavens opened – but dry in waterproofs, even that was a sensory wonder.

May 20th – Last week, at the floating market, I moaned to my old friend about the p*nct*re palaver I’d had the day before. I arrived home this evening to find a small box sent by my friend, containing a couple of repair kits, some cement, and about 50 extra patches – all my favourite brand – Rema.

It’s a lovely, funny thought. And I’m sure they’ll save my ride many times. Just hopefully not for a while yet…

May 20th – I’d had enough. The week had been tough and I needed time out – so taking advantage of a temporary lull at work I left early and headed out. The weather wasn’t great, with an insistent southwesterly and generally overcast skies, but it was warm enough and the sun did make it out on occasions.

I headed  up to Rosliston, hoping to catch the Honeypot cafe, but the opening hours were shorter than those listed online, and it was shut. Having a brainwave, I went instead to the cafe at the Rosliston Forestry Centre, which was decent and is open daily until 5pm. From there, Linton, Caldwell, Gresley, Netherseal, then back via No Mans Heath, Haunton, Syerscote, Hopwas and Weeford. 

This was just the thing my soul needed, and 75 miles later, I felt much better.

May 19th – I had gone to work on a pleasantly sunny morning, but returned in light rain, through a glistening, green, dripping landscape, no more in evidence anywhere than Green Lane on the Walsall Wood/Shelfield border.

The wet tarmac glistened, the trees, bright in their new green jackets, dripped softly. There was the gentle hiss of rain and babble of water.

But it was warm, the wind was behind me and for once, I didn’t mind.

Sometimes the only thing to do is open your senses and let it all in.

May19th – I passed along the canal at Bentley Mill Way later than usual, and noted that the swan brood here had hatched. I say brood, but I’m not sure what the singular of brood actually is; momma swan clearly only laid one egg this year, the remnants of which are all I can see in the nest.

I noted the parents travelling down the canal with their cygnet between them, proud attentive parents. I also noticed an interested heron; lets hope he decided not to run the gauntlet of the angry swan couple.

This pair do seem to have small clutches. I hope little one survives.