Tag: Brownhills

September 16th – I had a long ride planned today, but grim weather (my, it really was grey and windy, not what I’d hoped at all) and other jobs meant I didn’t get out until late in the afternoon. I spun around Brownhills and up over the common. I noticed this interesting repurposed building a couple of days ago, and haven’t had time to look into it. In School Avenue, there’s a converted chapel, called the Old Gospel Hall. Clearly now a house, I had no idea it was there. A nice looking building, it must be a remnant of old Brownhills. Must make some enquires.

September 15th – I noticed that in the fields between the A5 and the canal, the farmer was baling mown hay this evening. The device behind the tractor rakes up the sun-dried grass, rolls it into mat-like clumps, before compression and baling with twine. Completed bales are ejected back onto the pasture. Unlike straw, which has no nutritional or economic value to speak of, hay is a valuable commodity as it retains the goodness of grass, and becomes expensive during a bad winter.

Hay making is one of the great traditions of the rural summer, and speaks of provision and preparation, as well as the rotation of the season’s wheel. What better place to do it that in pasture in the evening sunshine?

September 15th – On this site in Short Street, Brownhills, stood St. James old people’s home, a modern facility built in the 1970s to serve the town. Local authority owned, it was well loved. Since the huge cuts in social care, the desire to offload the expensive care of the vulnerable has led to outsourcing. All such residential homes were closed in Walsall, some care transferred to the private sector and some to a new building run by Housing 21 at Anchor Bridge, called Knaves Court. The creation of Knaves Court is a wonderful thing, but had St. James been kept, we would have been able to care for more vulnerable folk, not less as is now the case. All such homes that were closed were demolished very quickly, presumably to prevent a reversal of policy.

The land once busy, now lies derelict and unloved.

A little known scandal. 

September 15th – Just on the canal at Newtown, Brownhills, I was held up by a loiterer on the towpath. I don’t know this wee cat’s name, but she was every but the star, rolling over for tickles, unselfconsciously pouncing on bugs in the grass and looking longingly at the ducks. I don’t think she’s very old, but she’s a lovely little thing.

I know regular readers @The Stymaster and Peter Cutler will enjoy this one.

September 14th – Home from work and off to Lichfield to do some shopping on a gorgeous, but windy afternoon. Heading up the canal to Chasetown, the tops of the hedges have been cut and my favourite tree is once again visible at Home Farm. I judge the passing of the seasons by that tree, it’s like a marker to me. Still with leaves, soon, they’ll be gone for another year. Looking over the farm, a buzzard wheeled high on the thermals and the harvested fields caught a patch of light. Not a bad view from Brownhills, is it?

September 13th – Elderberries seem a bit thin on the ground this year. Along the canal from Walsall Wood to Brownhills, there are usually clumps of the dark fruit hanging heavy on the bushes during autumn. I guess this is another symptom of a poor summer with few insects to pollinate the flowers. Local home-brew specialists may well have to find other wild fruit for their wines this year.

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 10th – The oaks on Brownhills Common are having a hard time this year. These colourful growths on their acorns are Knopper Galls: the abode of the gall wasp larvae. The adult wasp – a tiny little thing – drills into the acorn as it grows, and injects a chemical into the hole. This chemical causes a reaction in the acorn, and these colourful growths result. The larvae live inside the gall until spring, when they emerge. 

Isn’t nature incredible?