December 24th – Scouting for deer, I came across this pair of bandits on the canal towpath by Clayhanger Common. They normally dwell in the field off Northfields Way at Clayhanger, but keep escaping, the owner apparently at a loss to know how. As a consequence, they roam Clayhanger village and common, and are developing somewhat truculent personalities.
It took some coaxing to move them so I could get past!
December 10th – Whilst in Brownhills checking out the Christmas Market event, I popped over to Clayhanger Common to check out the rosy earthstar colony growing there.
These remain the most odd, fascinating fungi I have ever seen, and despite my initial concern, they are showing beautifully this year.
When ripe, the central sphere crumbles and the spores spread on the wind.
So pleased to find what is a relatively rare fungi locally.
November 28th – Pleased to note the return this year of the sunny rosy earthstar fungus to Clayhanger Common.
They aren’t looking too good at the moment – they need more damp – but these uncommon fungi have plenty of young ones developing and will look like no other fungi I’ve seen when fully developed.
I was hoping last year’s find wasn’t a one off. I’m chuffed to bits.
I watch with interest.
November 20th – A dreadfully great and damp afternoon saw me head out with a heavy heart – but hitting the fresh air, I took a spin over Brownhills Common for the first time in ages. it’s looking good, despite the autumnal decay; the heathland restoration here has clearly been beneficial, and it’s lovely to see so many self-seeded deciduous trees like oaks and sycamores growing well.
On to Chasewater, a circuit around the lake was wet but rewarding; the huge number of birds on the lake were mesmerising and the gull roost was massive. Fly Creek is flowing well with the recent rains and the area of the boardwalk crossing is as enchanting as ever.
As dusk fell, heading back to Brownhills, the blue light caught the canal at Catshill, and for a moment at least, was magical.
Sometimes, you set out for a ride in miserable weather and it turns out to be better than you’d ever imagine.
October 18th – Another lovely golden hour, this time as I came through Walsall Wood and the Black Cock Bridge. The sun reflected off the golden leaves beautifully and rendered the farmhouse precious.
As the sun receded further, the skies were dramatic over Clayhanger, too.
The sunsets at this time of year are fantastic.
October 15th – Further on, I hopped on the Spot Path back to Pier Street, and autumn is clearly well afoot now; leaves are turning and falling, and there’s that unmistakable nip to the air. It’s also getting dark now only a little past six pm – and in a week or so, the clocks will be going back and it’s the time of darkness once more.
Although autumn is lovely, I hate what it leads to.
October 7th – I’m fascinated by the way the scrub on Clayhanger Common has formed into a tunnel over the footpath behind the overflow at Clayhanger Bridge. This footpath is used enough to be fairly well worn, and the creepers, brambles and scrub have turned the track into a foliage arch which is quite charming and could, for all the world, be a portal to some kind of wonderful netherworld.
October 4th – I was surprised to note that the warm autumn, which has seen dead-nettles enter a second flowering cycle, odd aberrations of occasional foxgloves still in bloom and dandelions still out in pastures has resulted in some unusual sights, but I was surprised to note this ladybird still quite active on Clayhanger Common.
One thing’s for sure – when the cold sets in, it’ll be a shock to the system…
October 3rd – I had somewhere to call on the way back, and returned in darkness, but I couldn’t resist checking up the little forest of glistening ink caps on the edge of Clayhanger Common.
Grown well, these curious toadstools have peaked now and will soon decay to mush.
I have no idea what triggers these busy, short-lived clumps but they’re fascinating to study.
September 27th – I was lucky to spot this Japanese parasol toadstool fully open on Clayhanger Common on my way to work. They are generally so short lived that actually catching one fully open is quite hard to do.
When open, you can see just how these delicate little fungi got their name – fragile, with a pleated cap no bigger than a 10p piece, they’re one of my favourites.
Twelve hours later it will have disintegrated to nothing.
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