Tag: 365daysofbiking

October 11th – A gentle run along the canal back to Brownhills was in order, and on the way, I noticed a beautiful sky. My grandfather used to call this a ‘Mackerel Sky’ – presumably after the markings of atlantic mackerel. 

He used to have a saying ‘Mackerel sky, 24 hours dry’ – and it broadly seems to work, I think. Wonder if there’s a meteorological basis for this or if it’s just an old wive’s tale?

October 11th – The fly agaric are fairly profuse in the usual places around Chasewater. I nipped out late morning, still a bit rough, so kept it short. I mentioned a few days ago that the white spots dropped off the fairytale fungus as they aged – and so they do. The top picture shows an eight-inch monster that’s aged and split under it’s own weight; it’s almost completely free of spots and is starting to fade. Interestingly, the other two examples are younger, and still fairly free of spots.

I love fungi. I could study it all day.

October 10th – A spin around Brownhills on a grey afternoon on errands and to get some air. I wasn’t feeling too well and the grey autumn day wasn’t helping my mood.

By my cyclic antidepressant worked, and a ride cheered me up. Nice views of the Common, and still, this late, flowers and colour.

Can I really face another winter? I guess so, but I really don’t fancy it this year.

October 10th – I suspect this chap, getting some compact and much needed shut-eye on a waterside jetty at Newtown, Brownhills is the same smug cat I spotted a couple of weeks ago.

He was lazing in the mild afternoon, and with tail as draught excluder and warm on a plastic tarp, I suspect he could have been in heaven.

You have to admire the propensity of the everyday omg to nap just about anywhere.

October 9th – While in Birmingham, I passed under what used to be Fletchers Walk, unaware that it had changed so dramatically since my last visit. It’s still recognisably the place I lamented in the spring, with that geometric floor, odd mosaics and very red, red brick exteriors; but the shop units have all been ripped out, and the whole painted white and opened into an underpass.

It’s perhaps more haunting and chilling now than it was before. It feels like some architectural crime scene, washed clear of the horror but the bad atmosphere remains.

Curious.

October 9th – Out of work at lunchtime, and off to Brum on an errand. Occasionally sunny, but mostly grey and chilly, a real autumn run into the city down the cycleway from Straitly through Stockland Green and Witton Lakes. 

The lakes were beautiful, and the swans as charmingly truculent as ever. I’d still like to know who Georgina is and why she has a way. There is clearly a story there.

Returning on the canals and through the Sandwell Valley in a blue grey dusk, seeing the mist rise over the meadow at Ray Hall was a real ‘wow!’ moment.

A great ride, proving that the seasonal change is inevitable now.

October 8th – I was right about the rain and the fungi. On Clayhanger common in the morning, pleated ink caps, sometimes known as the Japanese parasol. These delicate, paper like caps only last a day, and 24 hours later, there will be no trace. They appear straight after heavy rain, their spores lying dormant until triggered by nature.

The fly agaric are also going for it. In Pleck on the canal bank, a nice crop which will surely proliferate now. Such lovely fairy-tale toadstools.