August 4th – He was fishing in the canal from the gardens at the back of Barrow Close in Walsall Wood. He is absolutely gorgeous, and I think I’m in love. He has to be a pedigree.
Look at the length of that tail! A fine cat whose staff should be very proud.
August 4th – I ought to know what this is; I can’t remember and the book is in elsewhere. The nettle-ish leaves have me confused. It’s a lovely shade of purple and one single instance (that I’ve found) is in bloom by the canal at Birchills.
Susan, help!
August 3rd – Chasewater itself was gorgeous. From the honeybees busy on the knapweed, which looks so very like thistles, to the thistles themselves, which are now doing the seeding thing. Amphibious bistory dabbles the western edge of the lake, and the north heath looked gorgeous.
We’re so lucky to have this nearby.
August 3rd – Still laying off the long rides for the sake of my sore foot, I had to run some errands and get some shopping in – so I headed on a sunny, but windy afternoon to Morrisons at Burntwood.
A lovely day, for sure – and the harvest at Home Farm, Sandhills, had started, but the wheat still wasn’t ripe enough. Hopefully, it will be before the next lot of rains midweek…
August 2nd – Still treating my injured foot with care, I took in a lazy loop of Brownhills and bimbled over to Chasewater, then back down the canal. It was a gorgeously sunny late afternoon, and after the heavy rains of the morning, all the greenery looked splendidly fresh.
In the space of 20 minutes, I admired the mature trees on The Parade, enjoyed the shimmer of Chasewater and watched spellbound as a wakeboarder practised his jumps. I also spotted the best garden chair-hammock thing ever, in a limpid, green arcadia beside the quiet, clear waters of the canal.
Don’t ever tell me there isn’t beauty in this place.
August 2nd – I suspect you readers might be getting fed up with my obsession with swans, but with several local broods this year it’s made me more aware of these fascinating birds and their habits.
This afternoon, the Catshill brood – still at an impressive seven plus mum and dad – were on the canal between Catshill Junction and the Pier Street bridge, just to the rear of Lindon Drive.
They were doing something I never knew that swans would do – they were eating blackberries from brambles growing at the canal side. The youngsters were positively devouring the fruit.
I never knew they ate such things.
When they realised I was watching, they regrouped, and headed off.
August 1st – My return journey was weary, wet, grey and warm. Again, it felt like being in the gust from a hair-drier, so warm was the breeze. It was raining steadily, and having popped in to Brum, I returned from Shenstone down quiet, greasy country lanes, dodging a whole host of slippery hazards in waiting, now hydrated.
I note most of the harvest is done here, but for a couple of fields. In the UK, I guess it pays not to dither, and as I was waiting at Shire Oak I reflected on the wonderful unreliability of the great British weather.
August 1st – I arrived at work early, before the rain came, but had to nip across town midday. There was a soft drizzle that made my beloved Black Country smell beautiful, and the trees and greenery, washed of dust and grime, looked splendid in their shimmering emerald wetness.
Gorgeous.
July 31t – I had something to go to in the evening, and returned late. I returned after dark, and it was beautiful, as late summer nights tend to be; it had rained briefly in the afternoon and the damp had drawn out the frogs, toads and gastropods in huge numbers.
This delightful pair were within six inches of each other on the grass by the canal at Silver Street.
Some people find these creatures of the night slimy and unpleasant; I think they’re beautiful, in their own way.
July 30th – Interesting to note the cat population seems to have woken up since the temperature dropped a little. I see a lot of tails and bums sticking out of hedgerows on my travels, or furry balls asleep on house-steps, cars and shady corners. Often I’m glared at from under parked cars or over the canal from the opposite bank.
I adore cats.
This midnight lady (I think it;s a lady) was photographed loafing in Chandler’s Keep, as I passed on my way up to Chase Road. Wonderfully black, and those whiskers! I feel sure she could well be a witches familiar…
That’s one classy cat.
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