July 7th – One standing water issue I know it’s unreasonable to expect anyone to ever solve is Green Lane, at Jockey Meadows between Walsall Wood and Shelfied. It has always flooded here; it’s the lowest point on the road between the two places, and sits in the marshy wetlands that drain Shelfield, High Heath, Pelsall and Brownhills. I think there’s little that can be done in civil engineering terms to solve this, that wouldn’t involve pumps and huge expense. There’s nothing to do but pick your moment, and plough through it. It’s not like a rural flood, though, so take care. The sewage works is nearby, and when overwhelmed, it will discharge to the Ford Brook. There’s a very real chance of contamination in that water. Close your mouth and go slowly…

July 6th – It rained. Possibly not the biblical deluge forecasted, but my, did it rain. I braved the start of the storm in the morning, and it rained steadily all day in Birmingham, where I was working. Leaving at 5pm it was still pouring, the short, soggy dash to the station I considered a foretaste of a grim journey home.

The weather surprised me, though. I got to Walsall and the rain was stopping. After a short hop to Caldmore, the skies cleared, and blue sky was in full effect at Shelfield as I passed through. Stopping at the Arboretum Junction, however, I was shocked at the amount of surface water still present. Is it the surface, or what? Mystifying.

July 5th – As I cycled back from Digbeth to the city centre, this collection of floral tributes caught my eye. It then occurred that this was where a young man recently fell to his death from the car park above, in an apparent suicide. I’m inured to roadside shrines like this as I see so many marking road accidents, but I don’t mind admitting that when confronted with this one, I wept for the poor lad openly.

An awful, awful thing, and a sign of the times.

July 5th – I found myself in Birmingham City Centre at 9am. I had to be elsewhere, but my trusty old bike lock had finally failed and it was time to get a new one, so I went to the nearest bike shop to New Street Station: Evans Cycles in Temple Row. I was sad to discover that oddly, the shop didn’t open until 10. This cost Evans a 60 quid sale, as I went to On Your Bike in Digbeth, instead. On the way between the two, I noted that once again, Birmingham is undergoing change. The revamp of New Street Station – which will do little for travellers, but provide a great retail opportunity for big business – is gathering steam. I have no idea what’s going on here in Stephenson place, but the end result will be a new branch of John Lewis. Something tells me that this is going for the Selfridges effect. I’m not sure that will work twice…

July 4th – People will tell you Brownhills is ugly, dirty, post industrial, a hellhole. It is variously none, all, and some of these things. But like the rest of north and central Walsall, it has one surprising trait that is often unseen until pointed out: it’s very, very green. Looking over a field of young wheat at Sandhills, over the canal and Millfield Estate at Catshill, there’s the spire of St. James’s Church, right there, nestling in the trees. Between the rooftops are more shades of green than you’d find in a pantone swatch book. It’s the same if you get up on Church Hill in Walsall. The most urban bits are host to the most remarkable trees, yet the seem to go largely unnoticed.

In case you’re wondering, last year this field held spuds. Crop rotation in action, there…

July 4th – In High Summer, every year, a sad but necessary thing happens. The verges on the major country lanes are trimmed. This is for visibility, and ditch maintenance purposes, and while the loss of a crop of wildflowers is sad, I recognise the necessity. I was amused, however, to note that on Lynn Lane, Lynn, near Stonall, the man (or woman) who went to mow, couldn’t bring themselves to execute this clump of poppies, and had neatly mown around them. Love it. Do something beautiful, every day…

July 3rd – Not half a mile from taking the rain sodden, misery-laden pictures in the last entry, a couple of things cheered me up. Cycling is a very effective antidepressant and I almost always finish a ride feeling happier than when I started it. I was cycling down Gravelley Lane towards Lower Stonnall on my way home, and movement on my left caught my eye. Turning to look, there was a young calf frolicking in a field of fresh grass, having an absolute ball, presumably with the rest of her herd, just having been turned out there. I headed for a gap in the hedge to take a picture, but sadly, the view was blocked. I adore cows, they’re so nosey…

Further along the lane I spotted the snapdragons in a field gateway. Antirrhinum are not, I believe, native to the UK, but garden imports from warmer climes (although I could be wrong and feel free to correct me). One often sees them in the countryside at spots where flytippers have dumped garden rubbish, and I suspect these delightful blooms to be of that category. However they got here, they’re gorgeous, and very welcome on such a dull afternoon.

In case you’re wondering, they’re called snapdragons because the flower allegedly looks like a dragon’s head, and if squeezed gently between thumb and forefinger, they open like a mouth.

July 2nd – Not far way, at Springhill, between Brownhills And Stonnall, there’s a fine crop of wheat, also doing well. I can’t get used to these modern, dwarf varieties. When I was a lad, the wheat was much taller, but now, the crop has been bred such that maximum growth is put into the grain and less into a tall stem. Although we don’t really accept it, crops like this have been genetically modified for centuries, usually by interbreeding and cross pollination. There’s nothing new under the sun. Or the lack thereof…