July 22nd – Chasewater is returning to normal. A hot summer Sunday at last, and the place was packed. People cycled, strolled, played games with the kids or just took the air. Boats were sailing, even a rowing boat scudded over the water. Levels continue to rise. It’s like watching a dear old friend recover from a debilitating illness. Wonderful.
July 21st – This relaxed, healthy looking chap wasn’t about to move because some cyclist was taking his picture. Oh, no. He knew he was safe behind the wire fence of the factory, and with all the workers at home, he could chill out on a summer evening in peace. Rugeley bunnies have attitude, it would seem.
July 21st – Summer is rolling on, and the Himalayan Balsam had started to appear. This prolific, invasive species loves damp, marshy conditions like riverbanks, streams and wetland, and crowds out anything it grows near. Reaching 2 to 3 metres in height, it bears a pretty, white and pink flower, and has a familiar metallic scent that’s quite unpleasant. It’s lovely to look at but an environmental menace, quite unlike the roses I witnessed further down the canal in central Rugeley, growing on canalside waste ground. Aren’t they gorgeous?
July 21st – A spin out to the Chase, then down on to the Canal through Rugeley and the Trent Valley. The journey out was hurried and rushed, but my descent was more relaxed and enjoyable. At Etchinghill, in Rugeley, I stopped to take a look at this field of rapeseed ripening in the warm sun. Although the pods and seeds have formed, they haven’t ripened yet. When ready, the plants are dead and yellow, and the seeds black. They are, however, already heavy in unsaturated oil. Used for a multitude of culinary purposes, rapeseed has a name-related image problem. Look for canola, or as Walkers Crisps term it, ‘Sunseed oil’. This plant is a brassica, and as such, the seed pods make it unusual.
July 20th – Summer arrived. I went to Aldridge to get some documents scanned, and I travelled up the canal. If you’ve not been lately, take advantage of the good weather, and stroll up the towpath. The wildflowers – already magnificent this year – are now in top gear. Beautiful. Celandines, brambles, orchids, vetches, worts and many I can’t identify. All there, just trying to get noticed; and accompanying it all, the buzz of honeybees stirred by the warmth of the sun.
At last, I am in England, in the summertime. Bliss.
July 19th – Despite the rain and grey days, the wildflowers are showing really well this year. I’ve noticed a huge variety, and they seem to be lasting a long time. I’m interested in the vetches and trefoils, but most of all, I’m intrigued by the stuff I don’t recognise, like this purple wonder, growing on Clayhanger Common. Any ideas?
July 19th – The rains didn’t stay way for long. I was working from home, drowning under a shedload of paperwork. Late afternoon, I popped out to get some shopping in. As I left, the soft drizzle that had been falling turned into a downpour.
There are few places greyer than Brownhills when it rains. I’m currently wondering whether it’s worth having my whole body waterproofed, like you can with tents…
July 18th – Everything is all to cock. Normally in summer, you have sunny days, and dull, rainy days. This summer you get dull, rainy weeks and sunny hours. It was in one such sunny hour I found myself in on the way back from work. It wasn’t terribly warm, but the countryside around Jockey Meadows and Bullings Heath at Walsall Wood looked superb. We’d hat a lot of rain, and Green Lane had again flooded, prompting the usual displays of lousy driving. The still-wet greenery, however, made it all seem worthwhile.
Hopefully, the weather is now limbering up for one whole sunny morning…
July 18th – I cycled to work in Darlaston in a rainstorm, for what seemed like the thousandth time. I came up through Shelfied and Walsall with a heavy heart; the wind was against me and I was getting rather wet. As usual, I dropped on to the canal at Bridgman Street, and the rain ceased for a while and the the skies brightened. Near Pleck, I came upon this brood of ducklings, huddled together in the grass for warmth, their mother quacking reassuringly from the canal. They were quite tame, and I feel sure I could have reached out and picked one up.
Further on, at Bentley Bridge, I noticed what can only be the sad remains of a Black Country Funeral, like a Viking one, but with less ambition. How unfortunate…
July 17th – I’d not really studied thistles closely until I took a picture of some a few weeks ago, but they are actually fascinating, diverse, and very, very beautiful. These were growing by Clayhanger Bridge at the canalside, and each flower seems like precisely engineered perfection to me. I’ve noted that there seem to be a lot of different types, with different physical characteristics.
They may be prickly customers, but they’re actually really interesting if you look closely. I must read up.
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