Tag: Stonnall

July 24th – Grove Hill is a local landmark that’s very visible from the Chester Road. The subject of huge mythology, there’s really very little known about it. Presumably, but not necessarily a burial mound, the lone tree on top makes a lovely viewpoint and a distinctly notable feature. I noticed a recent conversation on Facebook where it was asserted that the hill was called Gallows Hill, and was once the site of a military encampment. Sadly, I think the physical geography has a simpler explanation.

I believe the tree still exists – and I doubt it’s original – to keep the soil on top of the hill. It’s windy up there, and soil erosion is a problem. The root system will work to contain the earth, giving the reason why the farmer never removed it and put up with ploughing round it year after year. Note the short ridge hedgerow to the left – it’s on the generally windward side of the hill. The difference in soil height is caused by the hedge doing it’s job, which is also to prevent erosion by the wind.

It’s a lovely spot, with some fascinating folklore. However, like most fantastical tales, I suspect the actuality is somewhat mundane.

July 23rd – It’s really nice to have summer on her throne right now. I’ve waited so long for this. The countryside is drying out, and crops that were green and late a few days ago are turning golden in the hot sun. Here at Springhill, near Stonnall, this field of barley was rippling gently in the breeze. Soon, it’ll be time for another of the seasonal markers to tumble into place; it’ll be time to bring the harvest home. Let’s hope for a late scorcher, eh?

July 16th – Another wet day, another late, miserable commute home through the lanes of Stonnall and Lynn. I surely must have done, but I don’t think I’ve ever known a summer like this. Everything is saturated, even my goodwill. The bike is suffering, I’m suffering. Yet we both carry on; floods, muck and wind.

When summer does come it’s going to be bloody wonderful.

July 12th – there seem to be a lot of traffic surveys going on in South Staffordshire at the moment. Lots of back lanes seem to have the familiar rubber pickups nailed to the asphalt, just like this one in Gravelley Lane, between Shenstone and Stonnall. These devices count vehicles, and many modern ones take a punt at guessing what yore driving. The black cables are actually flexible, soft pipes, sealed at one end (usually by tying it in a simple knot). Any vehicle tyre running over the pipe causes the air pressure to rise within, and activates a pressure switch in the counter. By analysing the number of pulses and distance apart in time, many units can now tell the difference between HGV’s passing and normal cars. This device is probably installed for a routine traffic survey, and will soon be moved to a different spot. Surveys like this are regularly taken by councils.

July 11th – After days of moaning about the rain, as I commuted home late this afternoon, the sun came out. This was so joyous to me that I cruised around the lanes of Shenstone for a while, dawning in the warmth, taking in the colours of nature around me. It had been an odd morning commute – I set out in purring rain, but got to the station in sunshine. I’ve been very down about the lack of summer in recent days, and the relentless grind of getting wet nearly every day has taken it’s toll on my mood. This ride, however, was restorative. Blue skies, light fluffy clouds and a gorgeous light. The wheat looked healthy, and the hedgerows and lane margins bristled with life. Excellent. 

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 9th – All I want is a day – one day – without rain. Sadly, it wasn’t to be. Returning from Birmingham, the train disgorged it’s charges unexpectedly at Four Oaks, so I cycled up the hill out of the suburb, and then cruised down to Little Aston. At Mill Green, it began; a soft rain fell steadily. Coming up the hill to Shire Oak, I was hot, sweaty and tired. Then I realised: It had stopped raining. 100 metres round the bend, the roads were bone dry and it hadn’t rained at all. 

The weather we’re having right now is crazy.

July 4th – In High Summer, every year, a sad but necessary thing happens. The verges on the major country lanes are trimmed. This is for visibility, and ditch maintenance purposes, and while the loss of a crop of wildflowers is sad, I recognise the necessity. I was amused, however, to note that on Lynn Lane, Lynn, near Stonall, the man (or woman) who went to mow, couldn’t bring themselves to execute this clump of poppies, and had neatly mown around them. Love it. Do something beautiful, every day…

July 2nd – Not far way, at Springhill, between Brownhills And Stonnall, there’s a fine crop of wheat, also doing well. I can’t get used to these modern, dwarf varieties. When I was a lad, the wheat was much taller, but now, the crop has been bred such that maximum growth is put into the grain and less into a tall stem. Although we don’t really accept it, crops like this have been genetically modified for centuries, usually by interbreeding and cross pollination. There’s nothing new under the sun. Or the lack thereof…