Tag: cow

March 1st – Allegedly the first day of spring, but a better one insomuch as I was better prepared for the cold. I wrapped up better, and rode a more sensible bike. It was just as cold, with more persistent, more powdery snow – but on leaving work early, I did a loop of Brownhills before nightfall to enjoy the spectacle.

Enjoy it I did, although again, the wind and cold were punitive and pugilistic. The powder drifted in clouds like dust devils over canal ice and bone-dry roads. Snow depths went from nothing at all to 150mm. At 4:30pm it was already minus 5 degrees C. When my hair started to develop lumps of ice, I decided to go home.

I noted the gritting operation at the council depot was in full swing, and the grit barn looks very depleted. The coos up at Highfields Farm, Chasewater looked peaceful and unconcerned, and the fox I scared into woodland across the common near Watling Street was as usual for foxes in snow, apparently apologetic for his higher than usual visibility.

These have been remarkable days to be on a bike. They have been very hard, but I wouldn’t have missed them for the world.

It’ll be interesting to see what the weekend brings.

July 30th – The weather was sunny with squally, heavy showers and due to domestic complications I didn’t get out until late in the afternoon. When I did, I didn’t have a great deal of energy and the wind was a bit fierce so I took a leisurely bible to Chasewater and the surrounding area for a few hours.

With the bad weather it was very quiet, and also a splendid day for chasing rainbows.

I note the harvest is underway at Home Farm, Sandhills; that the birds foot trefoil has been rejuvenated by the recent rain; that the little pond right by the Burntwood bypass is absolutely teeming with busy water snails and that cows are roaming the north heath as well as the spillway area. 

It was a very dramatic day with some lovely sights but I do wish the settled weather would return for a bit.

October 29th – Talking about things that make you jump in the dark, I met this lad, statue still, stood beside the path on the North Heath at Chasewater on my return.

The rest of the herd were lounging behind, and he just stood, fixated by my light.

Probably best take care if you’re riding over there at night, make sure you have a good light. Hitting a cow in the dark wouldn’t be fun and there’s not much give in your average bullock.

July 31st – A ride on an uninspiring, overcast day actually threw up some wonderful sights, which just goes to show how you can never tell. At Newtown, I spotted the black cat ambitiously stalking mallards from the long grass… And on the rugby pitch at Chasetown, a mature female red deer appeared to be loafing with two generations of her offspring. Unconcerned at my presence, they just carried on snoozing and browsing the grass.

I headed to Barton Marina via Yoxall for disappointing tea and cake, but was pleased to note the Walsall boat and found face; it’s been 7 years since I last tried the place as a cycling stop, and to me, it hasn’t improved – soulless and out of place. 

The rabbit was spotted on the grass on the approach to the marina, and the coo south of nearby Walton.

A mixed bag of a ride, but a decent 45 miles and some great sights. 

May 8th – Another great ride of fifty miles – really getting back into the swing of it now. I set out into a surprisingly strong easterly wind on a very warm afternoon indeed. Cake at Fradley, then over to Alrewas, Catton and Walton; back over the Meccano bridge to Barton, Dunstable, Scotch Hills and Far Hoar Cross. Returning home through Morrey, Kings Bromley, Hanch and Chorley.

It’s hard not to love a ride that includes bluebells, a smiling boat, a warning of sluggish amphibians and all the songbirds.

An excellent ride. I’ve so been missing this.

April 9th – I passed this tiled mural late this afternoon, and finally recorded it as I’ve been intending to do since starting this journal all those years ago. It’s a simple, tiled inset in an otherwise blank shopfront wall next to AE Poxon Butchers, High Street, Brownhills. It shows, obviously, a bucolic scene of the kind of livestock the proprietor purveys – set in rolling, beautiful countryside.

Curiously, no chickens.

This is old. Really old. Poxon’s is an old company and a very old shop. This has been here certainly as long as I can remember, and much longer than that. I know nothing of who painted it or if it’s significant in anything more than as a local curiosity.

It’s a lovely thing, for sure, and a bit of Brownhills heritage.

July 21st – The lads are still working hard in a field further up Green Lane. The small herd of cattle continue to live in the watermeadow, which is looking noticeably more cropped than it was. The cows themselves are all looking in fine fettle – but I do have a soft spot for the brown and white one.

Is it me, or does he seem to be smiling?

March 31st – A day of contrasts. I needed to get to a bike shop, and with Chasewater Cycles gone, I could only think of Swinnertons, up on the Chase. I set off mid-afternoon, and crossed Chasewater, expecting it to be heavy going; but most of the paths and tracks were clear, but wet, and it was full of people taking the air. Intermittently, the sun shone through, but it was still bitterly cold. On the west shore, the wind lapped ice pieces ashore like a jingling, glass tide, but overhead, a kestrel hovered, wheeled and hunted with the joy that only the wild in spring can express. I’ve seen kestrels hunting before from the foot-pegs on that pylon. Must be a regular vantage point for them.

Meanwhile, on the north heath, the heathland management team of nine employees were hard at work, managing the heath in their own, inimitable style. The cows don’t seem to mind the snow, and carried on chewing, munching and defecating to their heart’s content.

March 10th – I do like to see folk getting stuck into their food. This chap, clearly immersed in the dining experience, is one of the Chasewater cattle, today fed with hay in a stall. He seems to have used his horns to break the bale open, and become somewhat entangled. I bet that thatch is quite warming.

A bit like me and spaghetti. We never went back to that restaurant…