August 22nd – The Elderberry crop looks decent this year, which is always a good sign for local home-brew winemakers.
I will be out collecting buckets of these tiny back juice laden berries for a relative to perform the usual magic of transforming this bitter, black harvest into a dizzying, beautiful dark red nectar.
They also make a wonderful sight as a roll around the area.
The oncoming autumn is lovely when you stop fighting it…
August 22nd – On a grey, grim morning in a dreadful hurry having been called in to work early, I stopped for a quick breather in Kings Hill and noted the twin sisters were looking good over in Wednesbury.
I’m so used to living workaday life in the shadow of this beautiful urban hill that I don’t pay attention to it enough. It’s gorgeous, and deserves more credit than it gets.
Green, with two stunning churches side by side, Church of England and Catholic, the view across the rooftops hasn’t changed much here in over a century.
Steady, slowly changing with the seasons, but essentially changeless. Always watching life below.
Oh how I love the Black Country.
August 21st – A workday full of heavy meetings and considering answers to problems, so I took time out in the afternoon in my favourite contemplation spot – Kings Hill Park.
Nobody about with rain spotting lightly on the pavement and leaves, but the flowers were beautiful, the greens verdant and the place spotless.
I love this little urban oasis so much. And I managed to solve a couple of problems. Result!
August 21st – Back in Darlaston, the building behind the town hall – for all the world nothing but a small, brick-built, ornate garage – had had more masonry removed, and scaffolding erected.
This is a sad state for what was the town’s fire station in the earliest days of the service to be in.
The site has been cleaned out and is tidy, and the further demolition seems too neat and level to be part of a total removal, so I’m hopeful this is the start of a full restoration.
I still have no idea what happened here, I’d be interested to find out.
August 20th – Also on the A515 just a bit further on, south of Yoxall – well, beside it really – a solitary, lone love-lock on the old Trent Bridge that still stands beside it’s newer replacement.
The lock – Wilko brand, so no expense spared – is marked N ❤️ Z with surprisingly deep carving.
I don’t know who placed it here, but I hope they have a long and happy life together, and I do hope more locks appear to keep this one company.
August 20th – A much better, brighter day for me, but not the weather, which got worse as the day went on.
Out for a meal and a ride with someone I’d been missing while they were on holiday, a ride out to a local pub for a huge steak blowout and then a ride to work it off.
There was no wind, and I started in sun; but it soon became overcast and the rain started. But for once it didn’t matter. Returning home 50 miles later in darkness and soaking wet was actually a joy after a wonderful trip out.
Travelling up the A515 through Abbots Bromley, I noticed the modernist, brutal concrete Jubilee Memorial bench, which must be one of the first examples of a very particular municipal style; and then the Best Kept Village trophy sign, which lists all the winners since the competition in Staffordshire began, which is actually fascinating.
I do wonder why that’s in Abbots Bromley, though, and not somewhere else. It seems very… specific.
August 19th – Spotted on the canal behind the building site at Silver Court, this likely lad, admiring the passing waterfowl.
That expression. Look at it. That’s all.
What a lad.
August 19th – I was having a terrible day: I had plans to get out early, but the wind and weather were grim, and everything I did seemed like wading through treacle.
After miserably writing blog posts, messing up dates and publicity schedules, I finally got a grip and went out, to find a bright periodically sunny late afternoon in which harvest was being completed and the fields of stubble were golden delights over towards Sandhills and Hammerwich.
The sight of that lovely church and converted windmill cheered me, as did the bright, surprisingly warm if short-lived sunshine.
A nice pick me up on an awful day.
August 18th – The tidy little calico cat who sleeps with her tongue out was hanging around in The Butts, Walsall on my way to work: she was watching the world pass by from the pavement, tucked in nice and tidy.
I stopped to say hello, and she didn’t move, but didn’t invite fuss, either; we had a brief chat but she wasn’t interested in my company, clearly.
A lovely little puss someone loves very much.
August 17th – I’m not going to say where this is for obvious reasons.
But in the heart of the urban Black Country, a keen gardener is growing melons in their front garden, on a frame made entirely of cut branches.
This is a remarkable and beautiful thing. My compliments to the grower.
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