Tag: towpath

August 27th – Returning to Brownhills that evening, I stopped to look at these shrubs growing by the Pier Street bridge on the towpath. I’ve been peripherally aware of them for ages, but not studied them before.

I have no idea what they are, and the blooms – now mostly over – seem almost prehistoric.

I’ve never noticed this before and am curious as to what it is. I’ve not seen it anywhere else locally and it appears to be thriving. Is it a garden escapee?

August 24th – Fruits of all kinds from berries, to nuts to pears. All in a short section of canal from Clayhanger to Brownhills on a dull, airless journey home. Nature is bountiful at the moment, and I was pleased to find the untouched windfall hazels, as here don’t seem to be many around this year. I note also the pears did quite well at Clayhanger, and the blackberries are delivering a huge crop this year.

It’s feeling a lot like autumn now.

August 20th – Much as I hate the current fad for obsessively mowing the canal towpaths, I quite like that they seem to be leaving the reed beds alone for now (although I don’t doubt they’ll be next).

Here near the Pelsall Road in Brownhills, they are little oases of disparate species, havens for insects and other wildlife. 

And they just look really, really good.

Do we have to keep cutting everything back? Put the mowers away!

July 9th – I wasn’t particularly late back, but the golden hour seemed to settle in early, on a peaceful, mirror calm Catshill Junction. The new flats have balconies now, but still no sign of anything being done with the scrub and statue on the canal bank. 

On the towpath side, the buggers don’t seem to stop mowing at the moment – I’ve never known a year like it. It’s almost as if the moment an interesting flower pops up it must be cut down.

It never used to be like this. I’m convinced it’s just so the Canal and River Trust can look like they’re pro active whilst ignoring real infrastructure issues.

June 24th – And by the canal in Leamore, just near Pratts Mill Bridge, a clump of purple vetch was proving irresistible to the bees, who buzzed around it with an air of frantic, but random purpose.

The vetch, like many other flowers is profuse this year. I hope the bees prosper from it. They need our support…

June 4th – Here’s to the dull ones, this that blend in to the background, and perhaps even those that are hated.

Nettles are prolific and fascinating – from the dead, non-stinging variety to those that cause sudden anguish and itching are everywhere – and they’re actually fascinating if you stop and study them.

One of the most important things they do is support the beauty of peacock butterflies whose larvae feed on these lowly-regarded weeds.

May 24th – The wildflowers and blossom are wonderful this year. On my way to Aldridge along the canal, I saw lots of hawthorn, cow parsley and my first flag iris of the year. I think the pink and violet ones are columbine or granny’s bonnet. The lupins are also superb.

Here goes the yearly uncertainty over flower identification. Ah well, down the hatch.

May 21st – Laburnum, or golden chain is one of the most beautiful blossoms of the British spring. Vivid yellow green, hanging in strings like some fluorescent downpour, it used to be a lot more prolific than it is today.

There used to be loads of this tree growing in parks, gardens and public spaces – but it hides a deadly secret. 

The seeds of this beautiful tree are deadly toxic, and after several accidental child poisoning incidents in the 80s, many of the trees were cut down for reasons of public safety.

Fortunately, some remain, like this example on the canal between the towpath and the cemetery at Bentley Bridge in Walsall.

May 14th – Marking the seasons in a journal like this is always about firsts; first daft, first bluebells, first conkers etc. – and it’s always nice to spot the first bird’s foot trefoil of the summer. I adore these dainty little flowers that brighten up meadows, fields, verges and margins pretty much all summer. This patch at Walsall Wood I spotted in rain, and they’d been left straggly by the mower, but still a bright flash of joy on a dull day.