October 10th – I passed through Birmingham in a hurry on business in the late afternoon. Passing through Cathedral Square, I noticed something I hadn’t before – the wonderful, priapic Alpha Tower as viewed in low sun down Waterloo Street – past an example of nearly every period of architecture in Birminghams history of continual change.

I stopped for a moment, and caught my breath.

October 9th – Darkness is now frequently impinging on my commutes – both early in the morning and in the early evening. This marks a shift now to night photography and the return to some old muses. I’ve not used the TZ90 in night conditions much yet, and I’m hoping it’s better than the TZ80.

Passing Clayhanger Bridge on a dark evening, I gave it a try. Not too shabby I think.

I’m pleased with those. 

August 9th – Spotted on the way to work, quick mobile phone pictures of something I was ages about. On Sunday, I found a fresh puffball on the Chase, and posted a quick snap on social media. Someone asked what it was, and noted that they’d found one and when touched, it ‘deflated’.

This ripe puffball was just on the edge of a verge in Central Walsall, so I recorded it whole and squashed – I didn’t feel too bad about squashing it, as that’s how it works; the body case crumbled and the millions of spores – the grey-brown smear in the second image – escaped like a cloud of smoke to be dispersed by the wind.

Thus the puffball rises, and lies waiting to be spit by debris or passing animals. Or a large-footed cyclist, in this case.

Of all the plants and species of life, sometimes fungi seem the most opaque, yet fiendishly, simply clever…

October 5th – A headache-grey, overcast and unpleasant day that was as grim and hard to face as the weather on the commute. Work is challenging at the moment and leaving me incredibly tired, day after day.

I’ve never known a summer end so abruptly and just dive headlong into a grim, grey, lifeless autumn like this – yes, the fungi is plentiful and the trees beautiful; but day after day the grey, sunshineless gloom is hard work.

I need a holiday. Returning home via a gloomy Catshill Junction, I was, for once fed up of the view.

October 4th – This is a great Autumn for fungi – everywhere I look there seem to be great examples of different species, and stuff I haven’t seen before.

This interesting clump of button toadstools is growing on the exposed, fractured roots of the spot where a tree fell near the Tannery flats in Walsall. I think it may be some kind of honey fungus, but I’m really not sure. It’s really colourful and the photo doesn’t do it justice.

I suppose this is the tradeoff for the damp, grey autumn – great toadstools!

October 3rd – I’d forgotten my camera, I was heading home late and flustered, what an unfortunate time to witness an astonishing sunset. 

Looking from Kings Hill west to Wolverhampton, across the ether the cellphone mast silently talks endlessly to, the sky was bright crimson, rippled and utterly stunning.

And the phone didn’t capture it at all. Bugger.

Ah well, there will be other sunsets that hopefully, catch me better equipped.

September 29th – As I came back to Brownhills, a great, violet sunset. I’d be interested to know why so many sunsets lately tend towards the purple rather than the red or orange. It must be meteorological, but it really is beyond my knowledge.

I love that view over Anchor Bridge to the weest. Always reminds me I’m coming back to Brownhills.

September 26th – ne of the rewards of autumn is the abundant crop of interesting fungi. Passing Clayhanger Common in darkness, I noted that some environmental trigger – damp, temperature, never sure what – has called on the glistening ink caps and they are everywhere.

They start as perfect little ridged caps, delicate and speckled with crystals. They age very quickly, and within 48 hours they open and decay into a black goo, hence the name ‘ink cap’ – and another 12 hours, and you’re hard pressed to find any trace they existed.

Fungi are fascinating.