Tag: Walsall Wood

September 2nd – As I squelched past Jockey Meadows, I stopped to look for my mates the coos. I noted they were on the far side of the meadow as I rode past on my way to work, but they were too far away to make a good photo. On my return, they’d gone, which I was sad about.

However, this female pheasant seemed to be enjoying the opportunity for browsing presented by the freshly turned meadow. Off that she seems to have lost her tail-feathers. Didn’t seem to bother her, though.

August 26th – Returning late in a glorious golden hour, I stopped to look at Jockey Meadows, as I hadn’t done so for a while. The coos are long gone, and the harvest done and dusted, and the countryside here is wearing an autumnal jacket, everything in the late summer slumber that pervades this time of year.

The days are cooler, and drawing in. I’m going to be controversial here, but I don’t think it’s been a bad old summer.

August 23rd – On my way to a friend’s house in the evening, I shot through Walsall Wood, and as I came over the canal bridge looking towards Walsall, something about the lights, the sunset sky and that window showroom caught my eye.

An odd splash of colour. It was actually raining lightly as I took these photos.

August 21st – I had stuff to do in Aldridge on the way home, and Northgate was solid with traffic, so I cut down past the back of the Vigo landfill to hop on the canal at Brickyard Road. I noticed that the final work seems to be going on with sealing this immense refuse tip. It was capped with a top layer of marl a while ago, and landfill gas is still being abstracted and used to power a large generating set, supplying power to the national grid; but amongst the bulkheads and snaking pipes, a plastic membrane has been laid and it’s being covered in topsoil, prior to final landscaping.

The membrane prevents rainwater from getting through the cap and soaking through the refuse, where it would be extracted and disposed of as a toxic brew called leachate, which is an ongoing, expensive operation.

Reducing leachate production also lowers the future chances of groundwater pollution.

Landfill is quite a high-tech operation these days, if carried out properly.

August 6th – Another fruit of the season, but this time doing well, are honeysuckle berries. Sticky, poisonous and sugary they would upset human digestion but not that of the local birds, who will strip the shrubs on the south side of the Black Cock Bridge clear of berries as soon as they’re ripe.

Their sticky coating leads to them acquiring a patina of dust and road film, and I often wonder what effect that has on the wildlife that dines upon it.

July 26th – In heavy rain, a flotilla of swans. not far from the place I last saw them, cruising for all the world like it was a bright, sunny day. 

I don’t suppose they care about the rain. 

They had somewhere to be, and were travelling with purpose. But despite the horrid, grey weather, they just sailed on like it didn’t matter – because to them, it clearly doesn’t.

I should be more like the swans. Rainy days like this pull me down. But soon the sun will shine, and the world will seem brighter once more.

July 26th – The latest addition to the local architectural scene is a set of steps built by the Canal & River Trust down off the canal towpath at Clayhanger, to the foot of the embankment.

The steps are well made, have a sturdy handrail, are ballast filled and are well  levelled, painted and a really, really nice job.

If only we saw such attention to detail when urgent repairs were required.

The steps have only been built to allow surveyors access to the toe of the embankment, because scrambling down a bank is clearly too much for them.

This is funny in one way, but also opens up an area to kids and the nosey that was previously well hidden and a haven for wildlife wanting peace and quiet.

You couldn’t make it up.

July 23rd – It may be high summer, but the wildflowers see no sign of abating, just the usual shift to darker colours as summer wends on. I love the rotund, spiny perfection of thistles, and the loose strife by the canalside at the Black Cock bridge is a new addition; but a welcome return of common toadflax is always a joy, even on the dullest days.

July 20th – It was a fast, damp ride home, and the light was terrible – thoroughly uninspiring. It was warm rain though, and quite pleasant once I stop resisting and accepted I was going to get wet. 

How nice, thought, to stand on a quiet canal, with no noise from people or traffic, and just listen to the music of raindrops on the water.

Even on the greyest days, they’re something to enjoy.