Tag: autumn

September 12th – By the time I was coming back towards Brownhills, the sun was coming out again and blue skies were peeping through. I noticed today the almost total absence of wildflowers on the canal – the flowering season is well and truly over. The leaves are still verdant and lush, but the joy of the wildflowers has ceased, at least for another year. I feel autumn tugging at my coat. This is not good; I’m in that depressing period when I know what’s coming but haven’t adjusted to appreciating it yet. Autumn colour always lifts my spirits, so bring it on…

September 11th – On cue, a couple of weeks later than the fatter, looser dewberries, the blackberries around Stonnall are ripening and being picked by foragers and birds alike. Blackberries are smaller, sweeter and stronger tasting; a more dense fruit, the individual ‘buds’ that make up the fruit (called ‘drupelets’) are smaller. Blackberies are also more whiskery than dewberries.

All are good to eat, and are adding to the tapestry of fruits and seeds smattering the hedgerows and thickets right now, along with hips, haws and seeds.

September 5th – the fruiting will soon be upon us. Already, I’m seeing early ripening and falls from wind damage and squirrels. The sycamores growing alongside the road at Sandhills, Shire Oak are heavy with their unique spinning seeds, and the beeches have already shed a few nuts. I’m already collecting these, as I do every autumn, for spreading on wasteland and hedgerows as I cycle. More about my guerilla planting later in the season…

September 3rd – Beauty is often found in unexpected places, and unexpected circumstances. Like a bad penny today, I pitched up again in South Wigston. This station – no more than a suburban halt, really – has always been a station I’d hated. No information system, little shelter, grim and fore bidding in the dark. And very, very cold in winter. Yet, this year, something strange happened. I discovered beauty here. I started to study the patch of scrub between the ramp and platform on the northbound side way back in spring, when it started to show a remarkable diversity of flowers. Untended, it seems to have been subject to some form of guerrilla planting. As the seasons have advanced, I’d spotted more stuff going on in this patch of scrub, which I feel sure I’m the only person ever to have noticed. It’s enchanting.
Today I found myself studying it again, at 8:45 on a misty, yet hazily sunny autumn morning. The fruiting has started in earnest. Haws, Hips, and catoniaster (the blackbirds go nuts for those bright orange berries) mingled with teasels, snails and cobwebs to make an autumnal tableaux that astounded and transfixed me.
Sometimes, I think I must be the only person in the world who gets excited about this stuff.

August 21st – Autumn is tapping on my shoulder. Soon, it will be that most depressing of bank holidays, the summer one. To me, that one signals the end of summer and start of autumn, like a marker post. Tonight, there was distinctly autumnal weather to remind me. Sudden, very heavy showers alternated with sunshine. It was getting colder, and there was a chill edge to the rain. This is what autumn always feels like at first.

Hello darkness, my old friend. 

August 11th – Oh my, the Autumnal signals are coming thick and fast now. Just as Home Farm are harvesting their wheat crop at Sandhills, I notice the hedgerow laden with brambles, both blackberry and dewberry. The dewberries, like those above, tend to come first – their fruit is slightly larger, less firm and has less globes than the smaller, sweeter blackberry. Soon this hedgerow will be laden with black fruit, a feast for birds, foxes and me, too. I do like a blackberry and apple pie…

August 8th – I note that the wonderful Linda Mason has today witnessed the itchy feet of the swallows and consequently mentioned the ‘A’ word – Autumn.

Not yet, you don’t, matey!

I prefer to think of this period as high summer and then late summer. Autumn to me doesn’t come until the leaves turn, around late September, but I mourn summer so much I’m probably just deluding myself. In the meantime, I’m enjoying the onset of the fruiting time – here beside the M54 at Telford, on one of the town’s numerous, largely unmapped and therefore lightly used cycleways, there is a fantastic crop of rowan berries. Sometimes called mountain ash, they make a very palatable jam or wine.

Today, they made a passing cyclist smile.

July 10th – This is a terrible photo, but illustrates something that always comes as a shock. The first vanguard of the fruiting season are the formation of haws on the hawthorn hedges and thickets. These hard, bitter berries will take the rest of the summer to ripen, before being eaten by the birds over winter. The sight of these fruits swelling and turning crimson is a harbinger of autumn to me, and a sign of the seasons’s passage. Together with the rain, this did not make for a terribly uplifting ride home…

November 6th – A warm, pleasant day with little wind saw me yet again fail to resist the pull of Cannock Chase. We seem to be in the terminal stages of autumn, and the colours are spectacular, as we’ve yet to suffer a frost. Today, the trails were a bit muddy, but great fun again, and as I sped around the trails I saw many families out and about. I came off the Chase at Milford Common planning to go to Hoar Cross; but the sunset and scenery were so spectacular that I decided to head back to Seven Springs along the canal after cutting through Shugborough, and came back over the Abraham’s Valley in the dark. A visceral, wonderful experience.

November 2nd – I know I keep banging on about the autumn and Arrow Valley park in Redditch. It’s just that the season, and the place, are very beautiful right now. The past few days have been a tad miserable, but when the sky has lightened, it’s really highlighted the colours of autumn. Here, near Ipsley bank, the sycamore and willow leaf fall, whilst treacherous, are rather lovely to cycle through, and a joy in the early morning.