Tag: rural

September 5th – Always worth noting that Redditch, despite the stick it gets (often from me), has some surprisingly beautiful corners and is actually very interesting.

Running the north-south length of central Redditch is the Arrow Valley park, a green vein with cycleways, horse trails, a large Watersport lake and other attractions. About two thirds of the way south is the tiny, preserved hamlet of Ipsley.

This is a sign of what was here before the new town grew; but it’s a peaceful, beautiful and bucolic island, not more than a few hundred yards from factories, housing estates and highways.

It’s a remarkable thing and worth a visit.

September 3rd – A very wet morning washed out the Whittington Country Fair, which was very sad as it was a lovely, quintessentially English event with plenty of food, interesting stalls and animals.

There were a whole range of good food stalls, things to buy and see, and it was all bracketed by. that wonderful British stoicism that we were going to have a good time despite the mud and weather.

Some of it was so wonderfully Wallace and Grommit it was beautiful. A great day, and I bet on a dry year this fair is buzzing.

August 14th – And no series of wildlife pics would be complete without the bunnies. Oddly, the ones up on the dam at Chasewater seem to have vanished, so I’ve been looking for others when out an about; I saw these in a garden near Carroway Head. These are true rural rabbits; scruffy, dog-eared and showing signs of skin problems, these are animals that have seen a thing or two. But the eyes are bright and they were alert and content.

I do like the rabbits.

August 7th – There were three in total, but ginger scarpered. Judging by their lanky, adolescent appearances, I think they were siblings, and I spotted them as they dashed over the road near Red Hill. They’d clearly been investigating the horses in the field, and been scared, and now there was this guy on a mechanical contraption pointing something at them.

These cats are clearly characters, and living in the quiet backlanes of Longdon, they have acres and acres of woodland, hedgerow, pasture and ditch to explore. 

What a life they have before them.

July 24th – Finally getting out on a ride late afternoon, I found myself on the canal near Tamworth. Here, I met a family of swans, with four cygnets. These were clearly rural birds, much more aloof than their urban counterparts; mum was very protective, and rather than hector me for food, they all grazed happily on the waterside greens.

It was a happy, healthy family and like the mallards yesterday, a very good thing to see.

September 21st – I was being watched from a driveway in Lower Stonnall. An apparently elderly but gorgeous tortoiseshell was regarding me with some disdain, while her mate, a gorgeous and large blue-grey chap was taking care of security.

They didn’t like my sort. I wasn’t welcome. Mr. Grey yowled at me. I bid him good afternoon, and left them in contemplative silence.

September 11th – I tried out Cobwebs coffee shop near Abbots Bromley – and fine tea and cake was enjoyed in a beautiful garden spot, which I seemed to be sharing with several hundred wasps. 

This is a great place and I will be back, and this sunny, warm afternoon was perfect for it.

August 26th – Returning late in a glorious golden hour, I stopped to look at Jockey Meadows, as I hadn’t done so for a while. The coos are long gone, and the harvest done and dusted, and the countryside here is wearing an autumnal jacket, everything in the late summer slumber that pervades this time of year.

The days are cooler, and drawing in. I’m going to be controversial here, but I don’t think it’s been a bad old summer.

August 15th – Returning by train because I was short of time, I cycled from Blake Street through the backlanes of Footherley and Stonnall on a beautiful, slightly chilly evening. My energy reserves were very low, and the ride was hard going, which can only have been due to the recent ill-health.

Still, the sun set fire a glorious golden hour and the fields were rendered beautiful. Even the horse chestnuts hit by leaf miners were gorgeous in the late sunlight.

Is that autumn’s breath I can feel on my shoulder?

May 3rd – An old cycling friend of mine whom I used to meet occasionally in the lanes of Staffordshire – the late, lamented Maurice Purser, who passed away in 2010 at the age of 93 and still rode when he was 90 – would have referred to today as a ‘wolf of a day’, in that it looked nice and friendly, but was vicious with teeth and claws. The sun was out, it was clear as a bell. It was even a tad warmer – but there was the kind of punishing, relentless wind you get in May that makes cycling in the wrong direction a joyless, unpleasant chore.

I kept close to home, and visited some places I knew would benefit from clear air and sunlight; Lazy Hill, Thornes Hill and the the church at Stonnall, and Grove Hill. I drank in the views, enjoyed the oilseed rape and noted that from Lazy Hill the wind turbine near Whittington was clearly visible. The aspect from the rear of the churchyard – just beyond the fence – was as wonderful as ever, a veritable walk across Stonnall’s rooftops. Up on Grove Hill I was buffeted by the wind and took several attempts at the panorama.

This is our area at it’s best, and worst: a grand day that presented the scenery beautifully, but was just too hostile to cycle out to see it.