September 16th – I headed back to Brownhills down the canal, and crossed Clayhanger Common for a change. I noticed at the old access driveway, near where the ranger’s hut used to stand a row of sweet chestnuts, with a glorious crop of nuts. I’ve never clocked these before, but they’re in rude health and look beautiful. Considering the history of the land upon which they’re growing, I’d not eat the fruit, but it’s a great thing to see, for sure.
September 15th – I headed out late morning hoping to get back before the weather closed in. I misjudged, and as I was pottering over The Swag the rain started. The marsh was great, and deserted, but almost everything was horrid shades of headache grey, the only colour being a curious orange flower growing in the brook. I headed back to Clayhanger and round the new pool, which still looks remarkably verdant for the time of year.
It felt wintry, and I felt down. There’s months of this to come and I don’t feel ready for it at all.
September 15th – My nosiness will one day be my undoing. For months now I’ve been curious about a drain cover I noticed at the top of the rough steps up to the old railway walk, just on the canal by Pelsall Road, Brownhills. It’s puzzled me because, well, there are no services up there, and no drains – certainly no electrics or telephony. But the access cover is new, and probably put there by whoever constructed the steps (and I never did find out who was responsible for those). Today, my curiosity bettered me and I flipped the plastic lid open – there’s a empty, corrugated tube veering to the side. A pebble dropped goes a fair way.
I popped the lid back, and went on my way, none the wiser…
September 14th – It usually takes a while for me to become comfortable with the presence of autumn, and this year it seems worse than ever. One of my favourite things that cheers me about this cruel season is collecting seeds of the deciduous trees – acorns, sycamore helicopters, conkers, rowan berries, beech mast and so on – by the pocketful, which I then randomly scatter on the margins I find; the commons, heaths, verges as I cycle past. This kind of guerrilla seeding is something I believe in, and lots of my friends have joined in with the practice. I’m sure I’m responsible for lots of the oak saplings on Clayhanger and Brownhills Commons.
This year, there is a huge, healthy crop of fat acorns. Grab some and spread the love.
I like to help the trees, because well, the trees need support.
September 14th – The big sky. I went out mid afternoon, in a fruitless search for a sandwich. All the Chasewater cafes have stopped serving butties after 2pm, which was sad, but I enjoyed a blast around a windy Chasewater none the less. All the time, I felt under ever-present threat from a sky that was clearly enjoying the drama. Thankfully, the rain held off. The wind, however, was something atrocious. Autumn is here to stay now…
September 13th – A grim commute in both directions. The wind and rain had arrived and seemed set to be in for the weekend. I’d suffered a thoroughly enervating week, and had had quite enough. Train delays and overcrowding made for a tough journey home, and I was glad to be coming back along the quiet lanes between Shenstone and Stonnall with a following wind.
The green, the fresh air and smell of the rain cheered me, but it was oh so hard. It’s a long time since I was this glad of a weekend.
September 12th – The weather has taken an autumnal turn of late, although this morning it felt unseasonably warm. I took loads of pictures this morning of fungi, then discovered afterwards I’d had the camera set badly and they were all fuzzy and out of focus. On the way home, though, I noted the last flowers of the season still holding up well, and the surprise lupins at Clayhanger were a shock. The dog roses near Pier Street bridge have both wonderfully scented pink flowers and beautifully orange hips. There are still traces of summer in the wet hedgerows and scrubs.
This is an odd season, to be sure.
September 10th – This just in from the ‘You’re having a bloody laugh’ department. A I noted last week, security at the bike parking facilities in the ‘new’ New Street Station is notoriously bad. Daily, the tally of thefts and vandalism increases. Notwork Fail, in their wisdom, stonewall any criticism or constructive comment.
Today, I noted they’ve been pro-active. They have pasted up a life-size photo of a copper on the hoarding behind the racks.
This has to be a joke. Fellow cyclists, Network Rail are taking the piss.
(Sorry about the poor quality close-up, taking photos at New Street is frowned upon)
September 9th – I got soaked again on the way to work this morning, less that 12 hours after getting similarly wet the night before. I’ve certainly not had much luck with the showers this last few days, and there’s now a permanent rainbow over my boots. The rain on the rowans and other shrubbery beside the cycleway at Telford looked nice, though.
Here’s hoping for a drier week…
September 8th – A hard 50 miler. I headed out to Hopwas Hays and explored the wood some more, finding what I think were training buildings for basic urban assault practice. They had a curious alley construction between them which would seem to be for practice around blind corners. These days, they seem to attract kids and campers.
From there, I headed east through Harlaston and Clifton, then south through Thorpe Constantine and Seckington. The sky was darkening, and by the time I hit Shuttington and the canal at Alvecote, it was raining hard. Sadly, the band of rain followed me home. I was soaked and tired.
Still, it was nice to see the conkers doing well, despite the evidence of leaf-miner blight, and even the late hairbells were lovely.
Can’t avoid the feeling of autumn, too. As I rode home, the smell of coal smoke was heavy on the air, and there was a distinct chill.
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