Galleries

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 4th – Sweet rain.

It’s been a long, dry and warm spell. Today was fraught, stressed, tired, sweaty. I was struggling against the urge to just go home, the heat, tiredness, irritation. But I could smell the rain on the wind. Sweet, distant, but present. I stood on the threshold of an open fire escape at work and filled my lungs with the smell of moisture on the wind.

As I left work, it began. I enjoyed it. Not torrential, but steady. Gently saturating the plants, refreshing the greenery, and making me feel if not less tired, more alert.

A sensory delight. 

I was glad the week was over. And welcomed the rain.

July 3rd – Cleavers, or sweethearts as they’re colloquially known hereabouts are fascinating little things. A creeping, grippy weed, it elevates itself from the ground by hooking on to other plants with it’s spiny, sticky hairs. The seeds themselves employ the same mechanism of almost velcro-like attachment, adhering well to clothing, feathers and animal fir. 

The owners of dogs and cats with longer coats will know well the hours spent picking these devilish little balls out of their animal’s hair… but as a seed dispersal tactic, it’s brilliant, as animals preen the seeds out, and they germinate where they land.

Natural engineering is damned clever.

I’ve no idea what the bug is, but he’s an interesting wee thing.

July 3rd – Ragwort is one of those plants that everyone recognises, but few ever stop to look at. It’s rather beautiful. This plant was growing in Mill Green, and looked gorgeous as I passed this morning on my way to work. The buds are gorgeously dainty, and the shades and complexity of the flower parts themselves is wonderful.

At this time of year, it provides a welcome boost to the other, fading yellows of the hedgerow and verge.

Another weed that really deserves a bit closer study.

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.

July 2nd – Passing through New Street Station in the morning, I noticed a motorcycle paramedic had been dispatched to some unknown incident down on a platform. Parked on the concourse, a well used, and no doubt well loved, specially adapted BMW bike.

These bikes are incredibly well engineered; they have equipment for use by the technician mounted everywhere, and it’s all to hand very quickly. The paramedics themselves hang about town all day waiting for callouts, and off they speed with all the kit to save lives and tend the injured. I used to see them in a particular coffee shop in town, always with scissors tucked into one boot.

It must be a hell of a buzz to ride through the subways, concourses and malls of Birmingham to get to a shout. I can really appreciate the rush of that.

To Flymo and the lads who wait for the call, my total respect. And I love your steeds.

July 1st – At the other end of my morning commute, Telford. The flowerbed here that held crocuses and tulips early in the year now holds these delightful blooms – the only ones I recognise are the blue lobelia. 

So many people passed this flowerbed getting off the train, and never gave it a glance. I felt sorry for the flowers, who were clearly trying very hard to get our attention.

So I shared them here.

July 1st – New Street Station is still a mess, still barely functional, and mostly, I think, now beyond reclamation. But on an early summer sunny morning, there’s something about the concrete, steel and surrounding architecture that renders it if not impressive, then rather fascinating. Architectural styles and textures clash. Machinery grinds and rumbles. Rails screech and clatter. Overhead wires buzz and crackle.

In the midst of this, the most unnatural, built environment that one would consider utterly hostile – signs of life. Shrubs and weeds, their seeds deposited by birds or wind, by luck find a little moisture, a sheltered fissure and just a little nutrition.

If only human design had such bare-faced tenacity, audacity and beauty.