Tag: spring

February 19th – It feels like spring, and I welcome it. More than the cessation of rains, I welcome the dropping of the relentless wind. Setting out for Telford on a spring morning, the sky was still lovely from the night before, and the ride felt good. Even the usual poor performance from London Midland couldn’t dent my good mood…

February 15th -The bad weather seemed to be breaking as I cycled back to Brownhills although the rains would return later. It felt warmer, and stiller. The canal that separates urban Brownhills from rural, rolling South Staffordshire was affording great views – and it looked very much like spring  was insinuating itself in the fields an canal embankments.

Everything was still wet, of course, but out here there wasn’t much wind damage – that is, apart from an errant trampoline, sensibly tethered to a fence, buy sadly lacking buoyancy.

February 14th – And still, gently, slowly, almost imperceptibly, nature is shuffling things into place for spring. When the rain stops and the sun warms the earth, fields, hedgerows and pools, all the preparations will pay off and the cascade of flowers, green and growth will begin. 

Just as it does every year.

The canals are dotted right now with floating roots. These are bullrushes looking for a new home. In winter, they readily split from their parent clumps, and drift, looking for a decent spot to anchor and regrow. Scaly and ivory in colour, they vary from a couple of feet long to small nodules. 

Also, the Broom is well in flower. I’ve been erroneously calling this gorse for years, and apparently it’s actually broom. But hell, it’s bright yellow and about the only colourful thing in the hedgerows right now.

February 7th – I was over in Telford early, and returned to Darlaston at lunchtime. In contrast to the day before, the weather started out rainy, but turned springlike pretty much as soon as I left the house. The cycleways of Telford were beautiful in the sunlight, and the station at lunchtime oddly quiet, but a much nicer place to be for a bit of sunlight.

Why does the weather keep taunting me like this? Why am I scaring the sun away?

February 4th – Another click, and the seasonal mechanism advances a notch. On the canal bank at Walsall Wood, hazel catkins, one of the first signs of spring… Then, near Clayhanger Bridge in the undergrowth, daffodils are growing and starting to form buds.

Jack-in-the-green has tapped his cane on the ground and told the plants it’s time to grow. More power to him!

February 2nd – As I got back to the Innovation Centre at 5:25, I caught sight of the lights reflecting on the boating lake, and just had to take a picture. It was then I realised it was only just coming on to dusk. In January, we clawed back about an hour from the darkness, and all the time the rate of change is increasing.

Spring will soon be here.

January 31st – It was a day of ups and downs. I had to get to the dentist, which is never pleasant, but the morning was decent, and the long awaited arrival of a new computer was good news. The weather turned about lunchtime, and cleared a little around 6pm. It’s really hard at the moment to find decent photographic subjects in a wet, grey or dark landscape. I find myself really craving spring right now.

I went down to Stonnall, and experimented with long exposures without a great deal of success. The long-distance shot from the quarry gates was interesting enough – although out of focus – to feature here. I did like the ones down onto Main Street, but others I took of the Chester Road were useless.

Some days are just to dark to do anything with.

January 16th – After yesterday’s tree trapped through a post and rail fence, I was on the lookout for more similarly entrapped flora. Again, in Telford, I spotted this sapling consuming a mesh fence. It’s really quite impressive. 

Elsewhere, on the same cycleway, I noted that the moss thinks spring has come. I know nothing about moss whatsoever, but this one is beautiful close up, vivid green and very fresh. 

I hope any cold snap doesn’t ruin it.

May 29th – I had expected to get very wet on my return home. As it happened, it was merely a light drizzle, in the gap between downpours, but there was a significant headwind, and the going was grim. Cowparsley and hawthorn buds line the verges and hedgerows, and the cheesy scent of rapeseed hangs heavy. But there’s little sun about, and the lanes look grey and dull. Even the rabbit that darted in front of me, causing me to brake sharply was soaking wet.

We must be due a hot, dry spell soon, please?