September 15th – Just on the canal at Newtown, Brownhills, I was held up by a loiterer on the towpath. I don’t know this wee cat’s name, but she was every but the star, rolling over for tickles, unselfconsciously pouncing on bugs in the grass and looking longingly at the ducks. I don’t think she’s very old, but she’s a lovely little thing.
I know regular readers @The Stymaster and Peter Cutler will enjoy this one.
September 14th – Home from work and off to Lichfield to do some shopping on a gorgeous, but windy afternoon. Heading up the canal to Chasetown, the tops of the hedges have been cut and my favourite tree is once again visible at Home Farm. I judge the passing of the seasons by that tree, it’s like a marker to me. Still with leaves, soon, they’ll be gone for another year. Looking over the farm, a buzzard wheeled high on the thermals and the harvested fields caught a patch of light. Not a bad view from Brownhills, is it?
September 12th – By the time I was coming back towards Brownhills, the sun was coming out again and blue skies were peeping through. I noticed today the almost total absence of wildflowers on the canal – the flowering season is well and truly over. The leaves are still verdant and lush, but the joy of the wildflowers has ceased, at least for another year. I feel autumn tugging at my coat. This is not good; I’m in that depressing period when I know what’s coming but haven’t adjusted to appreciating it yet. Autumn colour always lifts my spirits, so bring it on…
September 11th – On cue, a couple of weeks later than the fatter, looser dewberries, the blackberries around Stonnall are ripening and being picked by foragers and birds alike. Blackberries are smaller, sweeter and stronger tasting; a more dense fruit, the individual ‘buds’ that make up the fruit (called ‘drupelets’) are smaller. Blackberies are also more whiskery than dewberries.
All are good to eat, and are adding to the tapestry of fruits and seeds smattering the hedgerows and thickets right now, along with hips, haws and seeds.
September 11th – For the hell of it, today I got off the train at Four Oaks and rode back from there. On my way back through a sunny Little Aston, I noted the TV transmitters at Hill Hook. Having recently converted to digital, there are currently two masts – the taller one was first, then the one on the right was erected to substitute for it when the original was upgraded for digital. Now the switchover has taken place, I’m looking for signs of the temporary mast coming down, but nothing yet.
I love these structures. So elegant, so beautifully engineered. Visible for miles around.
September 10th – The oaks on Brownhills Common are having a hard time this year. These colourful growths on their acorns are Knopper Galls: the abode of the gall wasp larvae. The adult wasp – a tiny little thing – drills into the acorn as it grows, and injects a chemical into the hole. This chemical causes a reaction in the acorn, and these colourful growths result. The larvae live inside the gall until spring, when they emerge.
Isn’t nature incredible?
September 9th – Returning to Brownhills via Green Lane on the Walsall Wood/Shelfield border, I noted flytipping here was on the increase. After a relatively quiet summer with few incidents, the arseholes are back. Sadly, I can’t report these dumped window frames to the council as they’re on private land. It’s clear the idiots who did this just smashed the gate open with their truck. The same gateway has the remnants of other’s flytipping also.
Please think before you employ a very cheap workman. One of the ways they can be so cheap is to flytip, like this. Think on.
September 8th – A great sunset. I’d been stuck in all day working, but my sunset escape was slightly hampered by forgetting my trusty camera, so I was restricted to my phone. Not too bad, I guess, but it didn’t capture a glorious golden hour around Stonnall and Brownhills quite how I would have liked. There was a delicious slight chill, and the sun was low any golden. A wonderful end to a lovely day. These days must surely be numbered now…
September 7th – It had been a gruelling week. In Leicester for most of it, I’d had enough. The weather had been great, and I’d missed it by being holed up indoors all week. I escaped early on Friday afternoon, and endured a sleepy commute home on hot, sweaty trains. At Shenstone, I emerged in fresh air and sunshine, and immediately headed up Church Hill to the churchyard. I love Shenstone Churchyard, it’s overgrown air of neglect and nature’s reclamation softens a church whose dark, Victorian gothic I’ve never been fond of. It’s a peaceful place, and although I don’t like the church, I admire it and it’s bold architectural ambition, replete with vulgar gargoyles. I felt relaxed, already.
September 6th – I don’t really want to think about this, but that’s remarkable scaffolding on the side of the former Midland Hotel on the corner of Colmore Row and Church Street in Birmingham. I can’t imagine how you even begin to erect something like that. My admiration for those who do is unbounded. Ugh.
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