July 31st – The promised rains came, but during my commutes, they were patchy and drizzly. It was an odd day; I lost something in the morning, and found it in the afternoon on the station platform, still where I dropped it. I sweated in waterproofs. I saw the aftermath of quite a serious road accident. Sometimes, you’re glad to get home in one piece.

The rain was nice; refreshing, warm, not driven by the wind, just gentle, cleansing. I caught the waterlogged backlanes of Stonnall, and looked for the raindrops on willow herb and brambles.

Not all rain is bad.

July 30th – The ripening is noticeable everywhere. Returning from Shenstone, the fields of wheat and oilseed rape were losing their last vestiges of green; not yet ready to harvest, but well on the way. The golden colour is welcome and is like late summer’s coat; the countryside is replete in golds, beige and dark, dark green.

Also doing well, the bramble fruits – dewberry and blackberry – are turning red, and the parsnips growing at Sandhills look in fine fettle.

Doesn’t look like it was such a bad season, after all.

July 29th – Oak Apples, or galls, are an interesting thing. Very visible right now, they are the gall of a type of wasp that lays it’s egg inside new oak leaf buds. A chemical reaction caused by a secreted fluid causes the gall to grow, and inside, the wasp larva feeds on it, eventually burrowing it’s way to the surface and flying away.

Isn’t nature amazing?

July 29th – The summer is now moving into a new, later phase. From the growth, then the flowering, we’re now in the ripening and fruiting stage. All around, conkers, acorns and berries are visible in trees and hedgerows, still swelling and ripening. Here at Telford, the rowans that line the cycleways are turning orange slowly. Beautiful, but sad too, at the passage of summertime.

July 28th – Cycling after flash rains at the end of a dry spell is dangerous. The torrent washes down sand, stones and detritus that lurk in bends, hollows and adverse cambers waiting to steal your wheels from under you. The stones are the worst – they’re like cycling on black ice.

This patch lies at the junction of Cranebrook Lane and Boat Lane near Hilton, north of Stonnall.

Take care, take it steady, and Look out. 

July 28th – I wasn’t feeling great, but ambled out mid afternoon, with no clear direction. I ended up at Fradley Junction, near Lichfield, and took tea and cake by the canal. The sun was lovely when it shone, but the wind – after the stillness of the last few weeks – was a shock, and my attempts to cycle to Hopwas on the canal were cut short by a dodgy stomach.

I did get to Whittington, however, and noted the new marina just north of Huddlesford. The boater cat nearby was gorgeous, and friendly too. A pleasant afternoon, but it was hard going.

July 27th – I headed out to Burntwood to the supermarket to get some shopping in. I deliberately waited until the rain started, and cycling in it was joyous; warm, soothing, but cool and refreshing, I rejoiced in the rain running down my face and legs. Everything smelt gorgeous, and I’d forgotten how loud rain can be.

It’s not often you’re glad of rain, but I was today.

July 26th – It’s not often I do reader requests on 365daysofbiking, but here goes. Reader @hapdaniel asked the other day on twatter about sweetcorn being grown locally, and if it was likely. I opined that sweetcorn wasn’t, as we don’t really get enough sun for it to be produced on an agricultural scale, but lots of maize is grown, mainly for animal fodder. The two plants look pretty similar.

Sweetcorn is a genetic mutation of maize that results in an elevated sugar level, but needs lots of sun to ripen properly, and late in the season, so we don’t really get the conditions. But this field of maize on the corner of Lynne and Wallheath lanes in Stonnall is verdant, tall and healthy, and looks set to produce a good yield.

July 25th – Architectural perspective. I’d been to the night market at Walsall, and I came back down the Bridge. Walsall’s architecture is actually glorious in parts, and very, very handsome, but few ever look upwards and notice it. It’s also impossible to photograph without lens distortion and addled geometry, as you can’t get far enough away for a decent angle. 

Later on, passing through Walsall Wood, I noticed two thirds of the old St. Johns school, derelict as long as I can remember, still being carried to dust by the elements, wet rot, fungal deterioration and vandalism. Meanwhile, the recently refurbished southern gable is still a lovely looking home.

Never have worked that one out.