October 28th – Last commute by train for a while hopefully, and the morning wasn’t the wet one predicted – in fact, it was warm, and although damp from the previous night’s rain, it was a pleasant ride.

I stood and looked for my train, and noted a northbound one in the opposite direction. The trains haven’t been too bad of late and I remain fascinated by the exaggerated perspective and complexity of the lines, overhead wires and general machinery of the rail system.

Today wasn’t the worst weather, but it made me think about just how resilient these systems are – the engineering shouldn’t be underestimated.

October 21st – How do you like these apples? They are growing near Telford Station, and seem to be untouched by human hands.Dripping in the insistent rain, they looked beautiful in their glistening, ripe glory.

Gently, so as to not get drenched. I plucked one from the tree and tried it. A little sharp, but not bad at all. And a very good harvest, to boot.

October 21st – The ‘New’ New Street, theoretically and somewhat  risibly renamed ‘Grand Central’ wasn’t looking very new mid morning on this very wet autumn day. Leaks dripped through on to the concourse, the steps and platforms were slippery, and at the end of Platform 8 there was little sign of any of the multiple millions this misguided, lousy project has gobbled up with next to no improvement in passenger experience.

It’s about time Birmingham woke up and realised it’s new Emperor is stark bollock naked.

October 6th – A terribly grey morning, spotting with rain and I wasn’t sure I’d make it to work before the heavens opened, but… Victoria Park.

The greenspace at the centre of Darlaston looks beautiful at the moment, even on this greyest of days. Sometimes autumn is so beautiful, you can forgive it the darkness it leads you to.

September 2nd – Like most people, I’m holding out for an Indian summer, but as I made my way home on Wednesday, it seemed the chance was slim. Caught by two very localised, heavy downpours, I was soaked by the second after having escaped the first by stating it out in an archway in Pleck.

It’s gone cold, too. Summer, come back!

August 31st – I rode out via Canwell and Middleton to Middleton Hall for a cup of tea and cake, all the while in steady rain. I nipped down to Bodymoor Heath, onto the canal and up to Fazeley Junction. Back along the old A5 to Weeford, then home via Shenstone.

It was warm enough, and there wasn’t much in the way of wind. The roads were quiet and the riding fast; but it was very, very grey and very, very wet. The countryside dripped silently little droplets of grey summer sadness.

As ever on grey days, there was fun and beauty to be found; the architecture of the canals – not just the bold redbrick house, but the small lock-keeper’s hut with the chimney for a stove (how cosy must that have been in winter?); the Kingsbury lock flight and greenery of the canalside reed bed. Fungus is growing well in the damp, and those polypores were huge. 

Middleton Hall was as stunning as ever.

I just loved the hound tied up outside the cafe. He had an endearing way of looking at you with his head to one side. He was muddy and wet and had clearly been having lots of fun.

The red and orange spiny, furry growth on the rose stem that looks like a ball of thread? That’s a robins pincushion or Diplolepis rosea – a gall formed, like the oak galls by a wasp. 

I asked a few weeks ago why only the oak is bothered by wasp galls; it’s not only the oak, but mostly. Lime trees, conifers and roses suffer too. Here, a wasp lays 60 or so eggs in a tiny, developing leaf bud, surrounded in a chemical which causes the plant to mutate and grow this furry aberration, which is internally quite solid with cavities for the larva to hatch and feed.

Nature is quite horrific in it’s fascination sometimes. Find out more about this curious parasite here.

August 30th – A grey day, but I needed a ride. It’s been a few weeks since I had a good one, what with the cold and everything else. Conditions were pleasant enough, and it was warm with a little drizzle.

I went out to Whittington, and back across the heath to Weeford. I forgot how nice Weeford is, and what a curious little marooned village it is: built as a demonstration of his architectural prowess by noted ecclesiastical architect John Wyatt, it clings to a hillside in rolling countryside bisected by the A38.

The late summer colour was nice, and the roads were peaceful.

I need more of this in my life.

August 25th – Although it was a grey, miserable morning, the canal near Bentley Bridge still looked awesome. It’s still very lush and green, in spite of the merciless mowing of the towpath. Today I noted snowberries were coming on to fruit, and the ragwort is still going well.

A little brightness is always nice on dull days. The kingfishers remain elusive…

August 23rd – Caught in heavy rains at Cannock Chase, I headed for the nearest shelter which happened to be the cafe, Springslade Lodge. Awful phone photos, but I was struck by the effort the staff had put into dressing the garden with plastic tablecloths, flower vases and such, for no customers to be able to use it.

Oddly beautiful and a little sad.

August 22nd – A day of unexpected jobs and delayed activity, I finally got out at dusk and span on an errand to Burntwood, so naturally, despite the oncoming storm, I headed up through Chasewater.

The skies were dramatic, but I failed to capture them well, and whilst there were flashes of lightning and the odd rumble of thunder, despite riding back in steady, warm, refreshing rain, the foreboding, brooding skies failed to deliver.

But it was actually a lovely ride.