September 30th – Sadly, my morning photos came out terrible today, so just the couple. But they show something lovely – I’m assuming this bright climbing plant growing on the hedgerow near the Black Cock Bridge is Virginia Creeper. Unassuming most of the year, in the last couple of weeks it’s come alive; and in these gorgeous Indian summer golden hours it glows in the evening cool.
The whole place looked splendid as I passed. It’s gorgeous.
September 28th – Nipping from Stonnall over to Walsall Wood on an errand at sundown caught a misty, golden take on one of my favourite views: The Lichfield Road down into Walsall, and on to the Black Country.
Look at the traffic, the skyline. Then take in the sheer number and variety of trees. We may not realise it, but we live in a very green place. Long may it remain so.
September 27th – On the canal near Newtown, Brownhills, waterside pets. That wonderful dog… possibly a husky, whom I’m told is female, lying imperiously in the weak sun. Such a gorgeous, lupine creature. Her owners must be very proud.
Not far away, on an abandoned fishing peg, possibly the world’s smuggest cat. What a splendid fellow.
I can’t help wondering if the cat teases the dog…
September 27th – I caught a classic, sunny and misty autumn morning just as the mist was burning off. I had to nip to Burntwood on an errand and I took the canal to Chasewater. It was magical and gorgeous.
The spiderwebs on the gorse were captivating and there also seems to be a burgeoning crop of puffballs this year.
Could this be the last good weekend of the year, or are there more to come?
September 26th – I enjoyed the Chase so much the day before, I went back to try a different route, down the Sherbrook Valley, and through the Shugborough estate, returning home via Hixon, Newton and Rugeley.
It was warmer, but the light and colour were just as fine as 24 hours previously. The leaves and bracken seem to be turning very quickly now.
By the way: a discovery. The ice cream van at Milford does Blackjack flavour sundaes. That’s the old penny chew flavour. They are delicious.
September 25th – From Tixall, a stop for tea and cake, and then back home along the canal from there to Handsacre – a fair trip. This stretch, which runs limpid at the rear of the Shugborough estate and shadows the Trent for much of the way is captivating and tranquil. Even as it passes Colwich and the busy rail junction there it seems miles from anywhere.
All the time I was in a gorgeous, but chilly golden hour.
A wonderful ride that perked up a dreadful day no end.
September 25th – Tixall, the supporting village for the Shugborough Estate, lives in the shadow of its stately brother. But the little hamlet – not much more that a set of converted farm buildings, a huge, folly gatehouse, pepper pot lodge and chapel is beautiful, mores at this time of year.
The grand avenue – stretching across the lane – is still gorgeous, with a sense of sad, melancholy Ichabod as cows browse over the once neatly cut fields around the stone gazebo.
The pepper pot lodge – designed to mimic the towers on the gatehouse – is a lovely, peculiar curiosity.
I haven’t been here for ages. I forgot how lovely it is.
September 25th – A tough day relieved hugely by a great ride over the Chase, just shrugging on it’s autumn jacket. The deciduous trees starting to turn, the heaths, woods and trails were beautiful, seasonal and peaceful.
Some days, you just need this kind of peace to recharge your batteries. A fine ride.
September 24th – For the first time this week, a really decent day with lots of sunshine, but the cold is creeping in – it barely crept over 16 degrees all day.
The birds on the local canals didn’t mind, though – the Walsall swan family were, as usual, hustling for treats, but the herons – a twtchy young gun in the morning and a more relaxed, slightly mad looking elder hand in the evening – were stubbornly self-sufficient, as ever.
I love to see these guys. They fair made my day.
September 23rd – I find autumn fills me with conflict. On the one hand, it’s the end of summer, the coming of darkness and the cold. On the other hand, it renders places like my beloved Darlaston utterly beautiful.
This is just a hint of the riches to come. It’s not all bad. Not by a long shot.
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