Tag: 365daysofbiking

September 19th – There seems to be a lot of work going on with the local canals at the moment. At Walsall Wood, the embankment has be reinforced near the Black Cock Bridge, and near the Big House in Clayhanger, a month ago a pump appeared for a few days, and disturbance in the scrub showed work had been carried out surrounding the canal sluice drains there. Coming home down the canal from Aldridge, I noted that the sluice hear had been oiled, painted and digging had been going  on.

Wonder why the sudden rash of maintenance?

September 18th – From the Indian, back to the Indian summer. Darlaston, in and around Victoria Park. The leaves are turning and falling, and the park as clean and perfect as usual. Surrounded by beautiful houses, I will not cease banging on about this jewel of a place until everyone gets it.

I was intrigued by the scarlet berries on the holly-like evergreen; copious and beautiful, they seem to be holly, but the leaves don’t look much like holly leaves; more like a cross between laurel and holly. A curious thing.

Anyone know what it is?

September 18th – Ah, Walsall. In how many ways do I love thee?

I spotted this a few weeks ago. At first glance, to the uninitiated, it’s quite shocking; an ornate front door to an everyday house bearing a carved swastika.

The swastika, though, has a millennia-old peaceful history before it was stolen by the National Socialists; it is a symbol recurrent in Sanskrit (where the name originates) and one of peace and good fortune to Hindus, Jains and Buddhists. Still in common use in defiance of the Nazi corruption of it’s peaceful meaning, the Hindu culture in particular is trying to reclaim it from being associated with evil.

This beautifully carved front door is laden with Hindu symbolism, including a representation of Ganesha, the elephant-like god of good fortune and artistic wisdom. The Swastika is used often in the front doors of Hindu houses to invite in Lakshmi, the god of love, prosperity and beauty.

Note also the front gate contains the legend Patel, a common Hindu surname. 

Walsall is a melting pot of cultures, peoples and trades. On a dull moring in Pleck, a beautiful thing blends into an otherwise unremarkable urban tapestry.

That’s why I love this place.

September 17th – Recently on Facebook there was some concern over a swan that was found dead in Pelsall. The bird had been decapitated, and many were accusing vandals. The truth is less controversial, but sadly a little more gory.

The swan was, in all probability, killed by a fox. Anyone who’s seen the aftermath of a fox in a henhouse will know that Reynard goes for the neck.

At this time of year, this year’s cubs are driven out of the den by their parents to seek their own territories – that’s why we often see foxes sleeping on roofs and in quiet but open spots in late summer. Quite frankly, these canines are homeless.

The young, inexperienced adolescents are forced to fend for themselves – that includes finding food – and many will attempt kills that are well above them. So it probably was with the Pelsall swan.

Swans are not bright birds. As I came home along the canal, I spotted this usually aggressive lone bird fast asleep, drifting on the water. It had floated into the bank around the overflow, at Clayhanger Bridge, and the thicket nearby is usually host to a den of Brer Fox.

It would be fairly trivial for the fox to sneak up to the bird unseen, and go straight for the neck, which is about the only bit the fox can attack without the risk of being ferociously pecked. The kill, to an experienced fox, would be fast and efficient and lead to food for a week or more.

The fox that attacked the Pelsall bird was probably scared off, or attacked by other swans roused by the commotion, leaving their kill behind.

I couldn’t knowingly leave this swan to a similar fate, so after taking a few pictures, I gently woke it by speaking. I was greeted by wing-flapping, honking and hissing, and the white bird swam away from me.

Job done.

September 16th – We’re in a real Indian summer at the moment – back to cycling around without a coat, with the sleeves rolled up. The sun has been shining, and the soft, mist-suffused light – particularly in the afternoons – has been a joy to the soul.

Autumn isn’t far away, though; the trees are turning, and when the sun goes down, there’s a distinctive nip in the air my chest and bones recognise only too well.

Here on the Lichfield Road at Walsall, the atmosphere and colour were gorgeous. I love how the trees are sculpted on the underside by  the double decker busses that regularly pass under their boughs.

This has been a great season, and a good year. 

September 16th – There’s a shop opened up in the former bank in Darlaston, just on the Walsall Road at the lights. I say shop, it’s more of an… emporium.

It’s called something like Beer Bank, and I’ve not really taken much notice, as I thought it was purely an off-licence, but it’s far more than that. Told about it by mates, I popped in on my way through Darlaston this afternoon. It’s incredible.

The owner of this place sells all manner of British, Asian, Carribean and  Eastern European groceries. From fresh fruit and veg to cosmetics, from pickled cabbage to spiced soda, I think I’m going to have fun exploring the products here. 

There’s clearly a fierce entrepreneurial spirit at work – every square foot of floorspace is piled high with a whole load of diverse stuff. I loved to see the krela (bitter gourd), okra, chillies and ginger. I’ve no idea what the pumpkin-like green things are. The range of pickles also looks fun. 

I love the free bag of onions when you spend £20, too. This is what I love about the Black Country; something unexpected around every corner.

September 15th – Returning to Birmingham via Snow Hill station, an absolutely remarkable view up Great Charles Street to Paradise Circus over the Queensway Tunnels. Several styles of architecture here from Victorian to Brutalism. 

And beneath it all, a beautiful, glorious city lives and breathes.

This is my Birmingham.

September 15th – I spent the afternoon in Droitwich. This piece of woeful, inexplicable cycling ‘infrastructure’ is precisely why we’ll never have nice things.

Do you think the designer gave any thought to cyclists going in the other direction?

(No, there isn’t a lane on the other side of the road; there isn’t even a pavement.)

September 14th – Back up on Cannock Chase for the first time in ages, and I really loved it. From the Heron near Ogley Junction, to Abrahams Valley and Parrs Warren, I had a great afternoon, racing around and generally throwing the bike around. It made a change, it’s been a long while.

That foot injury has been really holding me back. So glad it’s healed now.