June 12th – One of the stars of high summer is the humble blackberry bramble flower. Never less than ragged, these fragile, prolific blooms are very common and seldom studied – but they’re a haven for bees and bugs, and add a lovely texture to wastelands, thickets and hedgerows.
And later, hopefully a huge crop of luscious dark fruit, just right for pies and crumbles, not no mention wine!
June 4th – A spin through Brownhills on a dull, rain-spotted afternoon reminded me that it was the flowering time of summer. Everywhere I went, copious flowers either wild of in gardens, beautiful colours just waiting to be seen.
Near Newtown on the canal, a white foxglove was keeping the bees busy and near the old railway line on Brownhills Common wildflowers were decorating and hiding the remains of the rail line here with admirable efficiency.
And then, in front of the Parkview Centre, what was once Brownhills Council House, a remarkable flowerbed that I believe is tended by volunteers. It’s a lovely thing and looks absolutely superb.
On behalf of Brownhills, I’d like to congratulate and thank whoever the gardeners are for their hard and skilful work. Thank you.
May 11th – Still in recovery downtime, I pottered out around the canals and commons to try and find the cygnets and deer. I drew a complete blank on the Watermead swans – nothing unusual there, swans possess an almost unique ability to disappear when you’re looking for them – and the dear nearly defeated me too.
I say nearly, as we more or less bumped into each other unawares. I was poking around the scrub on the old rail line near Engine Lane looking for industrial remnants, and these two ladies were heading the other way. I’m not sure who was more surprised, me or them.
A real pick-me-up on an otherwise fruitless journey.
April 24th – A very cold day once more with periodic rain and sun, so typically April, really; I keep forgetting it’s so early in the year. However, as I passed Clayhanger bridge in the early evening, a patch of cowslips I’m fairly certain are there due to my previous guerrilla seeding forays, and it’s wonderful to see such beautiful delicate softness against the harshness of the traffic barrier.
Mission accomplished, I think.
April 20th – Further on, Clayhanger Common is greening over a treat: the bench by the canal overlooking the new pond is once more watching over a sea of verdant green, and the pear tree there is in blossom, too.
Near the canal overflow, the foliage and creeper archway over the desire path onto the common there has delightfully regrown this year, and that makes me happy. It’s a lovely accidental feature of the common I don’t think anyone’s noticed much.
Spring, you’re so welcome…
April 15th – A better day, but with a keen wind and I headed out for a ride late afternoon. Passing along the canal in Brownhills, the local feline population didn’t disappoint: At Catshill just on Clayhanger Common, eyebrow cat cast a surly, but authoritative figure as it disdainfully regarded me, and on a canalside deck but the Watermead, an old puss had fallen asleep, seemingly unaware his tongue was still out.
I’m loving the cats at the moment…
April 12th – A further delight of the rain on Clayhanger Common – cowslips and pear blossom bearing jewel-like raindrops. In spring, even the rain is beautiful, and sights like these, even when you’re soaked to the bone due to lack of waterproofs – gladden the heart.
April 5th – The season is moving on at such a pace now, it’s very hard to keep up. Another first this morning near Clayhanger Common, my first bluebells of 2017 in a patch of spring snowflakes. Yes, they’re Spanish rather than their more delicate English cousins, but that dash of blue-violet is unmistakable and soon the woods and hedgerows will be a rash of vivid colour once more.
Welcome back, old friends.
March 11th – I wasn’t feeling well. An unpleasantly off-colour feeling had been descending over me for a few weeks. I ached. I felt dizzy. Something wasn’t right.
I grabbed a takeaway on the way home and shot from Clayhanger to Brownhills over the Spot Path and common – where, despite my fun, I found the migrating amphibians – out in huge numbers enjoying the drizzle – charming and fascinating. I love frogs and toads.
I took care where I was riding, and noted creatures of all sizes and hues. Very one of them obeying the same seasonal imperative.
Nature has a way of pulling you up short.
January 30th – A thoroughly uninspiring day’s riding. I travelled to work on a murky, damp Monday morning and there wasn’t even visible trace of the dawn.
In the evening, I left Darlaston in light but persistent drizzle that found every not-quite done up zip and flap in my clothes, with a crosswind that made the whole journey an ordeal.
Still, it’s staying late much later now than a month ago – a whole hour – and I keep looking at the green shoots on verges and in parks and know that darkness will reach it’s end soon.
I contented myself with a handful of shots of the canal on my way back to Brownhills, all the time dreaming of warmer, lighter, better days.
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