Tag: spring

April 7th – Yay! The cowslips are here. Heading back to Brownhills from work, I took advantage of a gap in the rain, and spinning up a sodden towpath, I spotted the recurring patches of cowslips on Clayhanger Common near the Pier Street Bridge.

I’m sure I guerrilla seeded these a decade ago, and they’ve spread beautifully. Since then, further bands of these dainty little primroses have appeared all around the common. Seeing them in flower brings me enormous pleasure.

Cowslips are my favourite flower. To me, they symbolise spring; yellow, hardy, and they appear when the worst is passed. This year, they’re a good couple of weeks early. 

The snail seemed quite pleased with them too…

April 6th – Still not feeling too great, and with similarly dismal weather, I took a spin out around Brownhills late afternoon. I noted that despite the grey and  blustery weather it was quite warm, and the oilseed rape was coming on in leaps and bounds. At Sandhills looking towards Springhill, the crop was nearly in flower, and the fields towards Hammerwich weren’t too far behind.

They’re going to be gorgeous this year when the sun shines.

This must be the signal that winter was over. I told you that buying new snow tyres would stall a bad winter – and so they did.

April 4th – I broke free after lunch and had time to kill in Walsall. It wasn’t a particularly bright afternoon, but I headed up to the church and memorial gardens as I hadn’t been up there in a long while. The Memorial Gardens were as I remembered them; quiet, peaceful, solitary and beautiful. Slightly down-at-heel, but no less beautiful for it, the flowers there are just kicking off. I have great memories of this little-known spot, but while I was here, it occurred to me that somewhere in the intervening years between my discovery of this wonderful place and the present here and now, that either Walsall had lost me, or I had lost Walsall.

These places, these streets, used to feel like mine. I used to haunt them. I knew them well, the shops, pubs, cafes. Today, although I pass through regularly, I don’t know any of it anymore. I still get the geography. But I’ve lost the sense of belonging. 

The horizon I could see from here today over the dull, overcast town was the same horizon, but changed, I saw three decades ago. But somewhere, inbetween that place and this, I exchanged that whole wide world for other horizons.

I wept a bit. But you can’t go back; I can no longer class this place as mine. But there are other places, and this will always, always be a part of me.

For better, or for worse.

March 29th – I left Lichfield and the madness of the crowds as soon as I could, and took a leisurely line through Beacon Park, past the brook and the willows, currently in bud. From there, I took Cross in Hand Lane to Farewaell, then hopped over to Burntwood and back home via Chasewater. A great afternoon in sandals and shirtsleeves, and some great spring sights in the hedgerows and fields, crowned by a stark but beautiful sunset.

Spring really is here now, and this was the last night of darkness until the end of October, a spring, summer and autumn away. 

Opening out – I love it.

March 26th – I cycled to work in bright sunshine, but it felt bitterly cold, although I guess it wasn’t, really. Since it was so nice I took a quick loop of Kings Hill Park in Darlaston. It’s a credit to the people who work hard to maintain it. The spring flowers are gorgeous, the planters are shaping up well and the the place is clean and tidy.

It’s such a shame that Oak Park in Walsall Wood can’t get a fraction of this kind of dedication. A real shame indeed.

March 20th – I cycled home in persistent rain, but with the wind behind me. As is usual in these conditions, I slid onto the canal towpath as soon as I could to avoid the madness of the traffic. Passing near Clayhanger Bridge, I was assailed by a pair of regular bandits. 

This pair of Canada Geese – apparently inseparable – have been hanging around for about three weeks now. As time passes (and presumably, the chap’s fancy turns in springtime) the male is getting more and more bombastic. He jumps up off the water when he spots me, up onto the towpath, all open bill and hissing. I’ve started giving him titbits to placate him. He now expects the ‘toll’ before he lets me pass.

I am, effectively, being mugged by a goose. Has life really come to this?

March 20th – It’s been a very, very tough week, and I was glad of the peace and quite when I found myself having to visit Telford. Cycling to Priorslee on the cycleway, spring is on the way there, too; this line of blossom (probably blackthorn, but maybe wild plum – thanks, Linda!) along the embankment was impressive. Spring is really here now, and I’m loving it, even on this dull day.

March 19th – Spring, it seems, has sprung. Not just the daffodils, crocuses and early blossoms, but buds, green shoots and nascent leaves. All taken in one short stretch of the Goscote Valley cycleway on the way to work this morning. 

The verdant young leaves of the hawthorn are particularly wonderful to see…

March 18th – I stopped to look at the Pussy Willows on the canal bank near Walsall Wood, which are currently just going over. The towpath was littered with their debris, and I found them fascinating. Sadly, my attempts to photograph them were thwarted by a blackening sky which, although dramatic, made macro photography impossible. 

As I arrived home it began to rain. Looking at the weather forecast, it doesn’t seem great for the weekend, either.

Come back spring, we barely got to know you…