May 7th – I went to see the swans down at the Watermead, and found them at Silver Street, enjoying the sun and learning from mum and dad how to forage.
They are still very much grey balls of fluff and adorable, and I spent a lovely ten minutes watching their antics as they splashed, bickered and tried to copy their parents.
So good to see this young family grow and develop.
May 6th – Another cheering thing was the discovery that the Watermead swan couple, nesting near the canoe centre in Brownhills, had finally hatched their clutch. Not huge this year at six cygnets, but not a poor showing either, it was lovely to see the little grey balls of fluff out learning how to feed with their parents.
Squabbling, squeaking and flapping around, it’s impossible for these little birds to make you anything less than joyous.
I hope none are predated this year, but with the preponderance of foxes and herons, we may well lose young chicks in the coming week or two, and we should be prepared – most years one or two are lost.
Also, if you go to see these lovely creatures – and what better wildlife sight could you share with young kids – then feed them greens or seed, but not bread. Bread has no nutritional value to waterfowl and can cause health problems. They like garden peas and greens,. and always enjoy seed.
Go and see these wonderful little chaps while they’re young and fluffy!
May 6th – Only a short run around Brownhills and over to Chasewater as it was, not to put too finer point on it, bloody cold and grey, the day being more akin to February than May. I was cheered however, by the cats I met at Catshill Junction.
These canalside kitties were at opposite ends of the age spectrum, and whilst the black and white one was a dashing, well-maintained cat about town who was all to ready to stop for a fuss, the old tabby with the mangled ear and sad eyes was telling a tale of great experience and no little fighting.
Both lovely animals in their own way. That’s what I love about cats and dogs; one can almost identify with their personalities, tribulations and lives.
May 3rd – Hasty, long range shots but of something I rarely, if ever see in Brownhills.: a mistle thrush. Indeed, thrushes and redwings don’t seem to frequent my hometown much at all, for some reason which is odd as there’s no lack of snails.
Yet in the centre of Darlaston this fellow was hopping around on a grass verge at rush hour, oblivious to the traffic and noise nearby, collecting worms for his family.
What gorgeous, proud and strident birds these are. A joy to see.
April 29th – I couldn’t resist hopping over to Silver Street and checking out the canal view at night, also a familiar winter haunt. I adore this spot at night, and things are changing here now; soon, houses will be built on the old market place, and much of the empty feeling here at night will disappear.
I love the urbanity of this place at night; the combination of steel, water, hard surfaces and sodium and LED light. This spot confirms to me continuously that there is indeed beauty in the most mundane of situations, not matter how plain we might consider them.
You just need the right time, the right angle, and an open mind.
April 29th – I’d been out for a ride late in the afternoon and returned when night had fallen. On a frankly uninspiring photographic day, I spotted Morris, the Brownhills Miner as I came back through town.
I never liked the mix of white and blue lights they chose to illuminate this remarkable sculpture with, but now some of them have burnt out, the lighting looks a lot better: less operating theatre harsh and more industrial darkness, as if Morris was being lit by the ghost light of the welds that created him.
Still love every single stainless steel segment of him (and there are hundreds – just look!)
April 28th – On my return, I needed fresh air so shot out around the canal and common at dusk.
It was one of those evenings when the sky was a sort of luminous blue, and it was really quite still.
I love how eerie the canal and particularly the old cement works bridge at the Slough is at this time of day. Just the tonic after a very hectic day.
April 28th – I had business in Walsall’s and Birmingham, but had to pop to Walsall Wood first in the morning, The junction was obstructed at Anchor Bridge, so I got off to cross the road on foot, and in the process, noted a familiar classic Brownhills view – usually a muse of mine in night time, it’s looking fine in it’s daytime spring green overcoat.
Summer must be coming!
April 24th – And not far away, just drifting on the canal asleep, softness and colour of a different natural kind. Mallards are colourful birds – even the females who would ordinarily be considered plain have remarkable colourings if you look closely. This fellow’s head is a lovely shade of iridescent green.
As I watched him and took his picture, he opened one eye, regarded me sleepily, and closed it again, totally at peace, drifting in the breeze.
April 22nd – I headed out for an afternoon ride, still tentatively fiddling with some mechanical issues. I first called in to the Watermead swan family, to see if their clutch had hatched yet, but apparently not, but on the way, I found this longhaired hunter stalking a little mallard.
Annoyed I’d spotted him and therefore ruined his chances of a waterfowl for tea, he was hunting not 20 yards from the swan nest. Whilst puss here is no threat to the swans (or the mallard for that matter, despite the seriousness of his intent) I can’t help feeling he’ll be in for a short, painful shock if he fancies a little cygnet.
A swan peck on the head comes very sharp and swan parents don’t mess about!
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