August 21st – Having had sugar, I felt much better and headed out for Sunday cake. Dropping onto the canal behind Middleton Hall via the old quarry site, I was held at bay by this bombastic cockerel and his friend who clucked, squawked and generally made me feel very unwelcome indeed.

I swear if you could ever cross a chicken and a goose you’d bring about a creature so mindlessly, relentlessly and fearlessly violent that it would result in the end of the world.

They don’t mess about, chooks, when angry.

July 13th – I wasn’t on my bike, but I can’t let this pass: a chance to overview the start of the demolition of the Adrian Boult Hall, part of the demolition of Birmingham Central Library and Paradise Circus.

Prehistoric looking machines are ripping, tearing and crushing masonry and concrete, shearing and cutting steel. Skilled engineers, operators and surveyors move over the site, where the modern age is almost universally high-visibility orange.

It’s interesting to see new vistas evolve, which themselves will be lost again. I’m lost the horror of the demolition now, and an grimly fascinated, like I’m watching some post mortem or investigation into some misadventurous occurrence.

May 2nd – What a difference an hour made.

It had been a miserable day – maybe a decent start, but over lunchtime and early afternoon, it rained, and the wind was gusty. Not great bank holiday weather.

I’d resolved, with some faith in a weather forecast that predicted a better end to the day, to ride out to Middleton Hall for cake. I set out in the rain, and sped through damp, dripping countryside. And then, the sun came out. It was warm, too.

I enjoyed tea and great cake, and a shifty around this architectural and historical gem. I have no idea what the wood carvings are about, but they were cute.

I think a proper spring arrived this afternoon.

August 31st – I rode out via Canwell and Middleton to Middleton Hall for a cup of tea and cake, all the while in steady rain. I nipped down to Bodymoor Heath, onto the canal and up to Fazeley Junction. Back along the old A5 to Weeford, then home via Shenstone.

It was warm enough, and there wasn’t much in the way of wind. The roads were quiet and the riding fast; but it was very, very grey and very, very wet. The countryside dripped silently little droplets of grey summer sadness.

As ever on grey days, there was fun and beauty to be found; the architecture of the canals – not just the bold redbrick house, but the small lock-keeper’s hut with the chimney for a stove (how cosy must that have been in winter?); the Kingsbury lock flight and greenery of the canalside reed bed. Fungus is growing well in the damp, and those polypores were huge. 

Middleton Hall was as stunning as ever.

I just loved the hound tied up outside the cafe. He had an endearing way of looking at you with his head to one side. He was muddy and wet and had clearly been having lots of fun.

The red and orange spiny, furry growth on the rose stem that looks like a ball of thread? That’s a robins pincushion or Diplolepis rosea – a gall formed, like the oak galls by a wasp. 

I asked a few weeks ago why only the oak is bothered by wasp galls; it’s not only the oak, but mostly. Lime trees, conifers and roses suffer too. Here, a wasp lays 60 or so eggs in a tiny, developing leaf bud, surrounded in a chemical which causes the plant to mutate and grow this furry aberration, which is internally quite solid with cavities for the larva to hatch and feed.

Nature is quite horrific in it’s fascination sometimes. Find out more about this curious parasite here.

May 25th – I’ve found a little oasis I never realised existed, but more on my main blog later in the week. In the meantime, here’s a grey wagtail I watched for ages, fetching bugs and feeding it’s young in an outbuilding. At one stage, it was challenged by a robing for hunting rights.

An amazingly close experience I never thought I’d have.

September 8th – I hit Birmingham again mid afternoon. I was drained, and feeling a bit groggy, but couldn’t waste the good weather. I rode out of town on the canal to Spaghetti Junction, then eastwards to Castle Vale and hopped on the Plantsbrook/New Hall Valley cycleway. It was gorgeous, and well worth what seemed like a Herculean effort. 

The Himalayan balsam is thick by the brook for almost the entire cycleway, making the air smell of hot tin, but for all the damage it causes, it is rather beautiful.

When I got to Sutton, I was beaten, and hopped on the train to Shenstone. IBS can be a pain sometimes.

April 18th – Between Harlaston and Clifton Campville, there’s a small, Catholic hamlet called Haunton. There’s a church, a small convent, a huge old folk’s home that used to be a private school and a lot of odd architecture. This is a tiny place, but it has surprising corners.

In the churchyard today, I noticed this railing remnant being consumed by two separate trees engaged in a slow, determined tug of war. I was fascinated in the distortion, and wondered how old the railings were.

I swear that if you put your ear close, you could hear the trees grunting…

June 5th – Glad I spotted this advert at the junction of Footherley Lane and Hollyhill Lane on the way back from Shenstone. Footherley Hall – a home for elderly ladies run by Catholic nuns – always puts on a great fete, and if you’re in the area on Sunday I recommend you pop in for a while. You couldn’t get anything much more English than this – tea, cakes,tombola, bric-a-brac and sunshine if they’re lucky, all in great, rural gardens. A fine thing.

November 13th – Later, in Acocks Green, I was surprised to note some old and rather wonderful architecture I hadn’t noticed previously. I was so busy looking for old cottages last week, that I never spotted some rather wonderful examples of civic buildings in Alexander Road. The Baptist Church Hall is a classic Birmingham terracotta brick building, and puts me very much in mind of the Magistrates Court in Corporation Street in the city centre. It seems to have an attached caretakers house, and next door appears to be an attractive former schoolhouse. I must look into the history of these buildings – they’re very grand for a small suburb. There must have been a fair bit of money here once…