June 12th – This one is for Fresh Rosemary, as I know she likes the coos.

These particular coos – all lads – are currently being grazed on Jockey Meadows, just off Green Lane, between Walsall Wood and Shelfield. They have been brought here to churn up the meadow, eat the more aggressive species of plants, and to fertilise the land… naturally. One could say that it’s absolute bullshit.

They’re certainly working well, and hopefully this will allow the less strong species of meadow fauna to thrive. As to the coos, they go home somewhere every night. When I pass in a morning, they’re all out grazing around the field; when I come back late afternoon, they always seem to be waiting by the gate for their lift home. Coos certainly seem to know what time it is.

They’re certainly going somewhere, as I passed by again at 10pm and they’d definitely gone. This begs the question of how my bovine brothers see this: is it like a job to them? ‘Hey Steve, that’s enough grazing. Time to knock off. Where the hell’s the herdsman?’

I’ve asked them. They’re not telling. Bloody inscrutable creatures, coos.

June 12th – Fed up of the ring road in the heat, the fumes were driving me mad. I hopped on the canal at Bridgman Street in Walsall and instantly felt transported to another world. Green, lush and limpid, it was heavenly, and unlike around Brownhills, the grass cutter hasn’t been this way yet and the embankments are still verdant carpets of grass and wildflowers.

This is near Bentley Bridge, in the heart of the industrial Black Country, yet the waterlillies are heathy, the waters clear, and a common tern hunted the water with skilful menace. And above all, peace – just the sounds of morning industry living and breathing.

The Black Country ugly? Open your eyes.

June 11th – The swan family are definitely down to seven from the original eight, but that’s still a large family, and they all look healthy. now four or five times the size they were just a few weeks ago, the cygnets are now around the size of an adult coot or moorhen.

They’d been loafing on the opposite bank of the canal from the towpath, near Clayhanger Bridge, where they seem to have a hidey hole. Obligingly, they all came out when I showed an interest. If they’ve been roosting there overnight, I’m surprised they’ve only lost one cygnet; that area is a busy thoroughfare for Brer Fox, who at this time of year, wouldwelcome of the easy pickings for the cubs’ lunch.

As they get older, they get harder to take and more worldly wise, so hopefully the remaining offspring will survive. They were certainly very relaxed today, preening, grazing and just scudding around with mum and dad.

I was glad to see them, I’m starting to feel an attachment to these grey balls of fluff…

June 11th – An odd day, really. I went over to Leicester early afternoon on a short notice call, and ended up leaving there late afternoon. Like the muppet I am, I left my camera there, and ended up having to use the phone camera, which I hate.

Waiting for a return train at South Wigston, I spotted this moron. Sat with his legs dangling over the platform edge at a station that sees fast through traffic, he ignored anyone (including me) who remonstrated with him to get up.

A candidate for a Darwin Award if ever there was one.

June 10th – Sights you don’t see everyday. Late afternoon, I’d nipped down into Wednesbury on an errand, and on the Darlaston Road at Kings Hill, the road was closed off by Police. There was a supermarkey delivery lorry lying on it’s side, and it looked quite bad. It turns out another vehicle was involved, but thankfully, nobody was seriously hurt.

That’s what you call a bad day at work.

A sobering thing. Stay safe out there, folks.

June 10th – Waiting in the queue at the Arboretum Junction in Walsall this morning, I was pleased to note that this Ricketts Ltd. tipper wagon was kitted out with safety features – a reversing safety camera, cyclist warning notice. He seemed to have extensive mirrors too, but I couldn’t get them in shot.

The wagon was driven professionally and courteously, and I couldn’t fault it – it was nice to see. More and more tipper trucks seem to have these safety features – shame they aren’t on some bigger HGVs.

Well done, H. D. Ricketts – very considerate.

June 9th – I came back from work and into Brownhills on a rather lovely summer evening, which, in contrast to the stormy morning, was welcome and lovely. Even at 6pm Brownhills seemed busy with walkers and folk out and about, and the Canoe and Outdoor Centre on Silver Street was humming with activity. 

Summer this year is coming in short bursts. Hope this stormy weather passes soon…

June 8th – A very, very British Sunday. I left at 1:30pm for Draycott in the Clay, knowing there was a steam event going on at Klondyke Mill. I like to visit every few years if the weather’s nice – it’s a great run up the A515 and a a nice hour or so ferreting about around lovely old machines and even more fascinating characters. More of that on my main blog in the next few days.

I set out on a warm day with bright blue sky and high cloud. As I got to the mill 70 minutes later, the heavens opened and we had torrential rain, thunder and lightning – which cleared within minutes. This was the pattern for the remainder of the day.

I enjoyed the event – lots of great machinery and lots to mooch around – but the entry fee was eye-watering, to be honest. But I understand running the machines is costly and the society need funds, so I don’t mind too much.

I did learn that there’s a huge, possibly even gourmet, selection of coal and coke. It really is a different world. 

I returned with a challenging climb up Hanbury Hill, close to the Fauld Crater, and back through Anslow and Tatehill. Passing Battlestead Hill, I stopped to think of the RAF training aerodrome that was on these hills during the war. So many lads learned to fly here, left for war and never came back. Now the sheep graze safely while I look out towards Burton.

On the way back, I experienced several more heavy showers. But I also got a sun tan, had ice cream, and cracked a hard climb. Not an afternoon to be faulted.

June 7th – A slow handclap please, for the Canal and River Trust, supposedly custodians of our waterways. They have really, really pissed me off. To put it mildly.

I had nipped up to Screwfix in Walsall Wood, and with the sun fresh out and warm after heavy rainstorms, I cycled down the canal to Chasewater. It looked great, and shimmered and steamed in that way it does after summer  rain. Then I realised – they’ve cut the grass on the embankments.

Initially this appears to be a good thing. Then I realised – they’ve blindly mown down the marsh orchids, and miles of other wild flowers doing so well here, providing food and breeding space for loads of different bugs, butterflies and bees.

Well played, C & RT, well payed. Not.

Acres of productive, healthy and untouched flowers destroyed without need. The grass wasn’t too long, and could comfortably have been left another few weeks.

Meanwhile, despite the complaints, the chasm in the footpath at Anchor Bridge remains unrepaired and ready to swallow a foot or bike wheel.

Custodians my arse.