Tag: summer

July 15th – Also a pain is the himalayan balsam. This tall, beautiful plant is growing in abundance now, and flowering strongly on damp waste ground, stream banks and the hinterlands and margins. It’s beautiful pink/white, metallic-scented flowers hide the real problem: this is an invasive species introduced by the Victorians.

The plant grows so tall and thickly that it chokes all beneath it, yet once established, like japanese knotweed, it’s very hard to remove.

The A461 Pipe Hill at Lichfield, and most of the verges to the waterworks at Pipe Hill are full of the stuff, season by season edging it’s way to Muckley Corner.

A beautiful undesirable.

July 13th – TheMadOldBaggage is right: I’m being unduly pessimistic about autumn and the passage of summer. It’s still gorgeous, and there’s loads of stuff still to come into flower.

Today, I was delighted to spot these gorgeous wild sweat peas. Just how lovely are they? You can’t fail to see these and not be lifted.

Autumn? Not yet you don’t, matey. 

July 10th – I’m really concerned about an early autumn, or maybe I’m just being paranoid because I’m missing so much sunny weather being trapped at work. These rowan berries – great for wine and jam – are ripening really well and seem very early to me. 

I spotted them on the way to work at Clayhanger. It’s nice to see, and the colour – bright, vivid orange – will be excellent. But it feels like the summer is slipping away…

July 7th – Working late, I returned at sundown and winched my way up Shire Oak Hill from Sandhills. I noticed that lots of trees along here are laden with developing fruits – beach nuts, acorns, pine cones and these, unusually abundant sycamore seeds, or ‘helicopters’ as we used to call them as kids.

They seem to be already ripening – but this is only just the beginning of July. 

Am I imagining it, or are we heading for an early autumn?

July 6th – I wasn’t in the mood to ride much – I had lots of work to do, so just popped up to Chasewater to check out the Craft & Farmers market, which again, disappointed. I shan’t bother with that again.

I spun out for a circuit around the park, and was taken by the buddleia, water lilies and various marsh orchids, which out here, unlike the ones near the canal, hadn’t gone over yet.

I stated last week that the flowering time was passing; but I was wrong. Things are still flowering well, just in different ways and different places.

This really is a most excellent summer.

July 4th – Cycling in the rain presents its own hazards and challenges, but is especially hazardous in the rain following a dry, hot spell.

When roads are dry, the surface, which is gently abrasive, grinds residue from tyres and collects dust and detritus, plant matter and spilled oil, fuel and other gunk from vehicles. This is all mixed and blended by traffic action into a sort of instant-grease mix, just waiting for the atmosphere to add water.

When the rains come, the first surface waters and traffic action mingle with the powder to form a soapy, slippery fluid that actively foams and reduces traction. Cornering in this goop on narrow tires can be like cornering on ice, and wheel spin and braking skids are the signs that one needs to be careful.

Most car drivers would never notice it. But anyone on two wheels dreads the sight of the white froth on a road surface, just waiting to steel your wheels from under you.

Take care folks.

July 2nd – The onward march of summer means more purples – the urban wasteland warriors that are willowherb and buddleia come into bloom around now. This willowherb – or old man’s beard – is growing well at Telford Station near the overpass, and is a welcome splash of colour in an otherwise dull patch of scrub.

After flowering, this tall, distinctive and very common wasteland plant forms wind-borne seeds that will drift on the breeze and fill the station with white fluff.

Good for birds and butterflies, both plants grow well in urban areas and spots either beyond the reach of man, or out of his sight. They are a testament to the tenacity of nature.

June 30th – With the passage of the early summer, we move from the flowering to the fruiting. Most fruits and seeds will be weeks in development, and not become of anything until late summer and autumn, but many flowers and trees seed early. The lupins by the canal at Clayhanger have long passed their best, but the seed pods they’ve formed, resplendent with downy fur, are a treat in themselves.

The dandelions, of course, such masters of natural engineering, seed all summer through. Such common flowers, rarely studied, but so gorgeous in their perfection.

June 30th – I guess we’re halfway through the year now, and in high summer. It certainly seemed like it as I cycled home along the canal this evening – the greenery, the light, the still, clear water. The peace.

It also occurred to me that after 6 moths of opening out, we’re now closing in again, but summer will hopefully be around for another 10 weeks or so yet.

It doesn’t seem ten minutes ago since I was wrapping up warm and wondering if I needed to change to winter tyres.

Where has this year gone?

June 29th – I wasn’t feeling so hot, and after the canalside festival, headed for a spin up to Chasewater, just to get some air. I must say, the hay fever is playing havoc with me this year.

The canal is teaming with life at the moment, from the growing families of waterfowl – the swan family still stand at 7 and they’re getting huge now – to dragon and damselflies, water lilies and some rather large fish. It’s a fascinating place at the moment, and well worth a walk if you fancy it.

It didn’t help my hay fever in the slightest, but it did take my mind off the sneezing…