Tag: fox

June 11th – The swan family are definitely down to seven from the original eight, but that’s still a large family, and they all look healthy. now four or five times the size they were just a few weeks ago, the cygnets are now around the size of an adult coot or moorhen.

They’d been loafing on the opposite bank of the canal from the towpath, near Clayhanger Bridge, where they seem to have a hidey hole. Obligingly, they all came out when I showed an interest. If they’ve been roosting there overnight, I’m surprised they’ve only lost one cygnet; that area is a busy thoroughfare for Brer Fox, who at this time of year, wouldwelcome of the easy pickings for the cubs’ lunch.

As they get older, they get harder to take and more worldly wise, so hopefully the remaining offspring will survive. They were certainly very relaxed today, preening, grazing and just scudding around with mum and dad.

I was glad to see them, I’m starting to feel an attachment to these grey balls of fluff…

September 22nd – I cycled down the spot path in near darkness, and total solitude. As the path opened out near the bend, I realised how eerie this was, and decided to take a picture. I then found I wasn’t alone at all. Just as this long exposure ended, a large male fox wandered out of the scrub on the left, turned to look at me for the briefest of moments, then walked off over the meadow to the canal.

Clearly, even in the quiet dusk of a Clayhanger Common Sunday night, there is important fox business to be done, if only the humans would mind their own bloody business…

May 20th – On my way home tonight, I hopped onto the canal towpath to enjoy the pleasant evening and see if we had any cygnets yet. Sadly, the swans still seem to be sitting, but I did notice how green and lovely the new pond was looking at Clayhanger. It was wearing it’s summer jacket gloriously well.

This site used to be a spoil heap from Walsall Wood Colliery, consisting mainly of grey clay, coal washings, slack and assorted rock detritus. In the early 1980s, it was excavated and used to cap the former refuse tip on the other side of Clayhanger Lane. The void left behind was landscaped, and lined with red marl and sand. It’s very hard to see any hint of the industrial  history at all.

Today, that grubby history was evidenced near the canal bank. At the top of the slope, a digging animal – most likely a fox – has started to burrow, and abandoned the hole after a short dig. Just a few inches below the red clay surface, a whole spread of coal tailings has been brought out. 

Must have been a hard dig, that. History makes itself evident in the oddest of ways, sometimes.

February 15th – I hopped off the canal and along the old railway line towards Clayhanger. It’s an interesting spot at dusk, and the views over the rooftops on a clear night are wonderful, as is the view down towards the village. As I arrived, there was a familiar rustle in the undergrowth, and out strolled the old dog fox. He looked at me, as if in recognition, then trotted off down the path.

It was good to see him, I was worried he wouldn’t survive the winter. He must be getting on a bit now.

January 22nd – One of the more revealing things about snowy weather is that you can see the trails of your local wildlife. On a gorgeously sunny, but very, very cold morning commute, I stopped at Mill Green to take pictures, and noticed two convergent trails of animal footprints. Clearly a fox, or foxes, there was evidently something interesting near the fence, judging by the trail.

Even in the bleak cold of a winter’s night, old Reynard does his rounds.

July 29th – I had loads of work to do all day, and wasn’t feeling too bright. I took a spin out late evening, as the light died; it cheered me up no end. Hopping on the canal at Pier Street, around the bend opposite the Watermead, a young fox was learning to hunt. Sadly, his intended target – a mallard – was far sharper than him and flapped away in a bad-tempered fug of splashing, honking and feathers. Meanwhile, the woodpigeons, realising that Reynard Jr. was no threat, looked on in interest. Sorry about the poor quality pics, but I had to share.

April 21st – I didn’t get out until dusk. A problematic day, filled with frustration, irritations and hassle. I escaped late, and poured myself liquid along the canal to the old railway line trail near the Pelsall Road. Not having tried the new camera in the dark, I thought I’d give it a shot. I’m very impressed. t does well in low light conditions and generates far less noisy images than the TZ20, always that camera’s Achilles Heel. Only meaning to pop out for a short time, I messed around for an hour or more, just enjoying the absence of company. Apart, of course, from my old comrade the fox. He sat on the bridge at Clayhanger, as he often does, then retreated to the scrub to watch the mad human for a while.

March 20th – I came back from work as dusk was descending, but the light was interesting and I dived onto the canal in Brownhills. On sheer impulse, I hopped up the embankment onto the old railway line behind Pelsall Road. I note someone has finally blocked the hole in the old bridge-deck over the canal. That hole has been there for at least three years, probably longer, and I was dreading someone might fall through it into the water below. Repeated calls to the authorities failed to get any action, and I have no idea who did this, but I salute them. I suspect it’s linked to other acts of grounds management on the commons locally – I note on the old railway trail, new guard fences on the Clayhanger Lane bridge and a lot of scrub removal. Top job, well done.

As I trundled along the trail in the dark, with lights turned off, the local, old dog fox sat looking at me for a while. He seems to recognise me. Eye contact for 20 seconds, then he turned tail and trotted off down the trail. 

December 10th – A cold, windy day. I headed out at sunset to explore an autumnal, wet Clayhanger Marsh. Gorgeous as ever, the sunset was quite good over Ryders Mere. Wildfowl were calling and I disturbed the marsh’s old dog fox in the process of bagging a little something for supper. I see that old fella almost every time I come here – we’re familiars, and respect each other from a distance. We often share contemplative moments together. If only he could talk…

April 11th – The Goscote Valley in North Walsall is often condemned as a polluted, post industrial wasteland. This is sad as although it suffers the issues of any urban green lung, the cycle trail that runs parallel to the Ford Brook – tributary to the River Tame – is a quiet and speedy way to travel. Today, my journey was punctuated by the sight of a kingfisher, a large male fox and a buzzard. Nature has a habit of surprising you.