February 17th – In Kings Hill Park, two firsts for the year; my first snowdrops and crocuses. The snowdrops seem very few and far between this year, and those around seem small and spindly. Can’t be their year. No such issues with the crocuses.
I think this spring idea might just work. The seasons wheel moves on another tooth. Bring it on.
February 17th – Darlaston, again. What a difference a day made. Spring was in the air, the sun on my face and warmth in my heart.
Shame about the trees in front of St. Lawrence’s Church. They make it impossible to get a decent angle on one of the finest churches hereabouts.
February 9th – Meanwhile, other signs of life – primroses in a town centre planter, just being bright and trying to get our attention.
Gorgeous little flowers, a little dishevelled by the elements, but colourful and cute, all the same.
January 27th – Heading back to Brownhills, dusk now getting later and later. Tis pleases me, and the opening out is now well underway. Another cold month or two, and then, hopefully, spring. Right now, it’s still a battle, but it’s one I’m winning; this winter hasn’t seemed as dark as others in recent years and I’ve felt a lot better about it.
I am looking forward to leaves, colour and warmth again, though.
All in good time.
July 13th – A vitally important mission begins.
These are the seed heads of my favourite flowers, cowslips, and the wee dots the seeds themselves. For the next few weeks, I’ll potter around anywhere I saw cowslips in spring, looking for the seeding plant. I’ll gently collect a little pot of seeds, and then spread them on land where it would be nice to see some in spring (praying I don’t get pulled by the coppers in the meantime).
It’s how most of the cowslips got on Clayhanger Common in the first place. I’m rather proud of that.
Guerilla planting is a random act of natural kindness. Do it now.
May 13th – The purple lupins (always earlier than the pink ones) are coming out on the canal bank above the big house at Clayhanger. I’ve never been sure if these are truly wild, or long-time feral escapees from the long gone garden of Ernest Jones, who had tennis courts and delicate flowerbeds at the foot of the embankment here nearly a century before.
They are beautiful, complex and fascinating, and yet anotherindicator of the seasons escapement clicking over another notch. Spring goes from whites and yellows to blues and then purples. Summer is pretty much upon us now.
May 10th – Fishpond Wood just off the Chester Road at Stonnall is often locally referred to as Bluebell Wood, for obvious reasons. Last year the display of very delicate, native bluebells was quite poor due to the late spring, but this year they are excellent. This is a lovely quiet spot just off a main road, but when in bloom, the bluebells render it magical, even on a poor day like this.
May 10th – Not a great day, blustery with rain showers, but the flowers and blossom still look good. On the local canal bands hawthorn, gorse, laburnum and cowparsley combine to leave the hedgerows a riot of yellow and white, the colours of spring and early summer.
All these are quite ordinary, overlooked blooms, but do look at the gorse and cowparsley – fantastically complex and beautiful.
May 9th – Also introducing their offspring to the big, wide world were Birmingham’s Canada geese. I saw a couple of families on the canal in central Birmingham, each with 3 goslings. These charming yellow chicks are gorgeous, but fiercely guarded by mum and dad who hiss and head-bob at me while I take pictures.
Late spring – multiplication, it’s the name of the game. Delightful to witness.
May 2nd – Returning from Lichfield via Aldershawe, I stopped to admire the oilseed rape here; there are acres and acres of it on the northern slopes of the hill down to Lichfield. But also, beautiful wildflowers too.
Don’t think I’ve ever known a spring this vibrant. It really is extraordinary.
BrownhillsBob's #365daysofbiking 