Tag: sandhills

November 16th – A day working from home – for working, read pottering about. I had to go to the dentist mid day, and wasn’t looking forward to it. I spun out for a short ride before the dreaded appointment. It was still murky, and a gentle mist sat over the fields towards Home Farm at Sandhills. My favourite tree – my seasonal chronometer – is now leafless, heralding the end of Autumn and the barren darkness of winter. Still, it’s a beautiful thing, whatever the season. I pulled up my collar, and pressed on.

23rd October – As I headed homeward, conditions – and the light – didn’t improve, but at least the wind was almost behind me. The amount of motorists I saw without lights was astounding, and by the time I was negotiating Shire Oak Hill, it was both raining steadily, and very nearly dark. This weather is difficult to ride in – not just for practical visibility and comfort reasons, but the rain makes people drive oddly, and it puts me on my guard. One would imagine that bad weather would make people drive more carefully, but the opposite seams to be the case. Most bizarre.

September 5th – the fruiting will soon be upon us. Already, I’m seeing early ripening and falls from wind damage and squirrels. The sycamores growing alongside the road at Sandhills, Shire Oak are heavy with their unique spinning seeds, and the beeches have already shed a few nuts. I’m already collecting these, as I do every autumn, for spreading on wasteland and hedgerows as I cycle. More about my guerilla planting later in the season…

August 22nd – The harvest seems to be taking forever this year. A bad summer, a series of late, false starts. Several fields around Stonnall and Shenstone are half-harvested. This must be a nightmare for farmers. I don’t think I’ve ever seen wheat lying ripe in the fields this late before. The swaths of straw at Springhill, I noted last week, have now, in one day, been baled and gone, yet work inches forward at Lynn and Sandhills. 

This is one dreadful year.

August 11th – Oh my, the Autumnal signals are coming thick and fast now. Just as Home Farm are harvesting their wheat crop at Sandhills, I notice the hedgerow laden with brambles, both blackberry and dewberry. The dewberries, like those above, tend to come first – their fruit is slightly larger, less firm and has less globes than the smaller, sweeter blackberry. Soon this hedgerow will be laden with black fruit, a feast for birds, foxes and me, too. I do like a blackberry and apple pie…

July 30th – The weather was bright and fine on the way home, but a petulant headwind made life a little unpleasant. I knew the weather was due to break in less than twelve hours, and I wasn’t wrong. But there’s something about the Springhill barley field, blue sky, white clouds and old hamlet that are just too lovely to feel sad for long. A gorgeous view.

July 26th – Only three days ago, I mused on the coming harvest. I noticed this evening, whilst cycling back through Lynn, near Stonnall, that it had begun. This is a real seasonal marker for me; I know now that we’re advancing from the flowering to the fruiting, and sadly onwards to autumn. This field had been harvested and partially baled, the giany matted rolls of straw awaiting bagging. one on the other side ofLynn Lane had already been finished. The first of this year’s wheat crop has now left for milling.

Meanwhile, at Sandhills, a view Mike ‘VWCampervan’ said he’d like to see in the sun (the last time I featured this, it was green, wet wheat on a dull day. Now, it was a classic golden field on a glorious sunny high summer evening. Wonderful.

July 10th – This is a terrible photo, but illustrates something that always comes as a shock. The first vanguard of the fruiting season are the formation of haws on the hawthorn hedges and thickets. These hard, bitter berries will take the rest of the summer to ripen, before being eaten by the birds over winter. The sight of these fruits swelling and turning crimson is a harbinger of autumn to me, and a sign of the seasons’s passage. Together with the rain, this did not make for a terribly uplifting ride home…

July 10th – There’s no end to the rain and grey weather. The light was so poor all day that my photos were all drab, lifeless and depressing. I’m sorry about that, it’s just the conditions. However, it’s July and high summer, and I’m commuting in high viz, full waterproofs and with lights on in daytime. This can’t go on: we must get the sun back eventually. Stuff Chasewater for a week or two, I want to feel the sun on my back and the freedom of cycling in a teeshirt and shorts again.

July 4th – People will tell you Brownhills is ugly, dirty, post industrial, a hellhole. It is variously none, all, and some of these things. But like the rest of north and central Walsall, it has one surprising trait that is often unseen until pointed out: it’s very, very green. Looking over a field of young wheat at Sandhills, over the canal and Millfield Estate at Catshill, there’s the spire of St. James’s Church, right there, nestling in the trees. Between the rooftops are more shades of green than you’d find in a pantone swatch book. It’s the same if you get up on Church Hill in Walsall. The most urban bits are host to the most remarkable trees, yet the seem to go largely unnoticed.

In case you’re wondering, last year this field held spuds. Crop rotation in action, there…