BrownhillsBob's #365daysofbiking

On a bike, riding somewhere. Every day, rain or shine.

Posts tagged ‘edgelands’

#365daysofbiking Keep an eye out

June 17th – For some reason later than the canalside ones, the orchids in the grass on the bank from the canal to the new pond at Clayhanger are now coming out.

Thankfully unharmed by the Canal and River Trust mower, these lovely purple flowers are hard to spot at first amongst the tall grass, vetch and other wildflowers but they’re there – being beautiful and trying to get noticed.

If you go for a look, wear wellies or long trousers as the grass is full of cuckoo spit…

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from Tumblr

July 22nd – Not much riding today, which was sad. I had a lot of maintenance jobs to do on the bikes, and I had to be at the Queen Elizabeth Hospital in Brum in the late afternoon. I took my bike on the train.

Leaving in the early evening, I noticed the bunnies on the edge lands near a path through the hospital site. I’m glad I caught them; they were skittish, and in all there must have been more than ten. 

Sorry, the picture is a wee bit poor due to the speed and the camera being at full zoom.

I love to see wildlife thriving in urban settings like this. A joy to the heart.

March 28th – Daffodils. We all love them. I don’t think it’s possible to dislike these jolly, bright spring staples; yellow, white and orange, growing in gardens, verges, hedgerows, woodland and wasteland.

I adore them because they symbolise a new year beginning of light, long days, good rides and beautiful nature.

They are stunning in the huge displays they form, but while those are undoubtedly wonderful, I’d like to hear it for the solitary soldiers of spring – the loners, the brave, singular blooms you see dotted about.

Often on verges or poor ground, they may be the tentative start of a new patch in coming years, destined to multiply and impress from a single bulb that got there – who knows how?

They may be the last remnant of a patch decimated by disease (as large daffodil colonies often are) or disturbed by man.

They may not be perfect. They may be tatty, small or distorted. They may be eking out the last scrap of nutrition from a poor clump of soil, or harassed by traffic, animals or the wind, but they’ve done it, the lonely, single flowers. They put on a show for us.

Let’s hear it for the tenacious, bold one-offs!