September 17th – Recently on Facebook there was some concern over a swan that was found dead in Pelsall. The bird had been decapitated, and many were accusing vandals. The truth is less controversial, but sadly a little more gory.

The swan was, in all probability, killed by a fox. Anyone who’s seen the aftermath of a fox in a henhouse will know that Reynard goes for the neck.

At this time of year, this year’s cubs are driven out of the den by their parents to seek their own territories – that’s why we often see foxes sleeping on roofs and in quiet but open spots in late summer. Quite frankly, these canines are homeless.

The young, inexperienced adolescents are forced to fend for themselves – that includes finding food – and many will attempt kills that are well above them. So it probably was with the Pelsall swan.

Swans are not bright birds. As I came home along the canal, I spotted this usually aggressive lone bird fast asleep, drifting on the water. It had floated into the bank around the overflow, at Clayhanger Bridge, and the thicket nearby is usually host to a den of Brer Fox.

It would be fairly trivial for the fox to sneak up to the bird unseen, and go straight for the neck, which is about the only bit the fox can attack without the risk of being ferociously pecked. The kill, to an experienced fox, would be fast and efficient and lead to food for a week or more.

The fox that attacked the Pelsall bird was probably scared off, or attacked by other swans roused by the commotion, leaving their kill behind.

I couldn’t knowingly leave this swan to a similar fate, so after taking a few pictures, I gently woke it by speaking. I was greeted by wing-flapping, honking and hissing, and the white bird swam away from me.

Job done.

September 17th – The Indian summer continues. It’s very dry, and the air quality is surprisingly poor, but it does make for a lovely atmosphere. Returning home through Shelfield in just a tee shirt, I was captivated by the soft light and landscape.

All autumns should be like this.

September 16th – We’re in a real Indian summer at the moment – back to cycling around without a coat, with the sleeves rolled up. The sun has been shining, and the soft, mist-suffused light – particularly in the afternoons – has been a joy to the soul.

Autumn isn’t far away, though; the trees are turning, and when the sun goes down, there’s a distinctive nip in the air my chest and bones recognise only too well.

Here on the Lichfield Road at Walsall, the atmosphere and colour were gorgeous. I love how the trees are sculpted on the underside by  the double decker busses that regularly pass under their boughs.

This has been a great season, and a good year. 

September 16th – There’s a shop opened up in the former bank in Darlaston, just on the Walsall Road at the lights. I say shop, it’s more of an… emporium.

It’s called something like Beer Bank, and I’ve not really taken much notice, as I thought it was purely an off-licence, but it’s far more than that. Told about it by mates, I popped in on my way through Darlaston this afternoon. It’s incredible.

The owner of this place sells all manner of British, Asian, Carribean and  Eastern European groceries. From fresh fruit and veg to cosmetics, from pickled cabbage to spiced soda, I think I’m going to have fun exploring the products here. 

There’s clearly a fierce entrepreneurial spirit at work – every square foot of floorspace is piled high with a whole load of diverse stuff. I loved to see the krela (bitter gourd), okra, chillies and ginger. I’ve no idea what the pumpkin-like green things are. The range of pickles also looks fun. 

I love the free bag of onions when you spend £20, too. This is what I love about the Black Country; something unexpected around every corner.

September 15th – Returning to Birmingham via Snow Hill station, an absolutely remarkable view up Great Charles Street to Paradise Circus over the Queensway Tunnels. Several styles of architecture here from Victorian to Brutalism. 

And beneath it all, a beautiful, glorious city lives and breathes.

This is my Birmingham.

September 15th – I spent the afternoon in Droitwich. This piece of woeful, inexplicable cycling ‘infrastructure’ is precisely why we’ll never have nice things.

Do you think the designer gave any thought to cyclists going in the other direction?

(No, there isn’t a lane on the other side of the road; there isn’t even a pavement.)

September 14th – Back up on Cannock Chase for the first time in ages, and I really loved it. From the Heron near Ogley Junction, to Abrahams Valley and Parrs Warren, I had a great afternoon, racing around and generally throwing the bike around. It made a change, it’s been a long while.

That foot injury has been really holding me back. So glad it’s healed now.

September 14th – The boating lake at Chasewater has been drained for cleaning, and the old water spread on the west heath, by the railway. Odd to see this pool empty, but the feral white geese and opportunist wagtails didn’t seem to mind too much.

I noted they had warning signs out to avoid the area where the old water was spread, like it was suddenly a health hazard; whereas when it was in the pond, we were invited to sail toy boats and paddle canoes in it…

Let’s hope it’s kept a bit cleaner in future.

September 13th – I whizzed up to Walsall Wood in the morning on an errand. Coming back, I noticed the canal alive with small fish, and wondered if there was an oxygen problem there, but the fish seemed lively enough. No wonder the herons are so prolific here at the moment.

I stopped to look at the old Black Cock Bridge. Around a century old, I think, and in poor repair, it desperately needs some love. Since alternate routes exist, I think one day this steep and high crossing will be closed to through traffic like Hollanders Bridge in Walsall Wood, as replacement would be difficult and expensive.

Mind, a lick of paint and a good clean wouldn’t hurt…