February 7th – On the subject of interesting architecture, in the last few days I noticed this peculiar and rather charming twin tower arrangement in the back gardens of central Darlaston, behind the handsome houses of Rectory Avenue and the Post Office. I have no idea what it is, or if it’s accessible. It’s visible across the workshop yards of Church Street, too. Does anyone know anything more about this?
February 5th – I feel sorry for the waterfowl during this cold snap, really, which is probably a bit daft. As I took a gentle spin down the canal today, I noticed lots of forlorn looking ducks, canada geese, coots and moorhens loafing around disconsolately on the frozen canal, which itself was covered in a messy layer of slush. I watched as birds struggled to land, skidding frantically along the ice. They are, to coin a phrase, like ducks out of water. I did notice something though, today. Moorhens don’t have webbed feet. I find that a bit surprising, but as these footprints show, they haven’t got the best feet for swimming. There must be an evolutionary reason for this. Wonder what it is?
February 2nd – If you’re a cyclist, Green Lane between The Black Cock pub, Walsall Wood and Shelfied School is best avoided, at least until the next heavy rains. Today, as I went to work, the hedges were being flailed. This happens every few years, either in the autumn or winter. Cutting the roadside hedges back is essential, and must be done when birds aren’t nesting, but it showers the road with debris, in this case, Hawthorn clippings. These short bits of twig bear sharp, tough thorns whose specialist skill is puncturing bicycle tyres – particularly cheap, thin ones. I’d say that in rural areas, 90% of my punctures have been caused by Hawthorn spikes. I don’t blame the farmer, the job has to be done. But until rains come and float the debris away, the route is best avoided.
February 1st – This swan had me concerned for a bit. Sat on the frozen canal near james Bridge in Darlaston, as if he were trapped (I’m assuming it’s a he, how do you sex a swan?) I watched him for a while, fearing a stuck bird. As I started to whistle, he got to his feet, leaving small, melted imprints in the frozen canal surface.
Birds seem able to be in contact with ice like this for indefinite periods, without their feet freezing because they have a very interesting feature in their blood circulation systems. At the top of their legs, the small amount of blood that flows to the legs and feet flows through a sort of ‘heat exchanger’ which removes heat from the outgoing blood and transfers it to the blood flowing back. Together with few nerves actually in the limbs, birds like these can stand for hours on ice with no ill effects and little energy consumption. All achieved through the magic of nature’s engineering hand, evolution. It surely is a wonder.
February 1st – High above the shop-fronts in Stafford Street, Walsall, on the shop next to The Prince Blucher pub, there’s a blue plaque. I first noticed it about 4 years ago and it has intrigued me to this day. The text is so small and placement so obscure that I never managed to read it properly, which is a shame. I see from my photo that it commemorates Joseph Deakin, a name I’d not heard before. It seems this one time anarchist, political activist and would-be terrorist of sorts has a tale to tell all of his own. And I never realised. What guide to the town breathes the name? Who mentions this clearly very principled, yet misguided man? Who’d have thought so much history could be found in such an obscure place?
January 31st – Since mass manufacture upped sticks and left town, one of Darlaston’s largest employers – in terms of ground space, if not number of employees, has to be the scrap metal recycling trade. There are several large yards operating in the area to the east of Darlaston Green. These are huge, well run commercial concerns operated by big companies. At the top of the scrap food chain, there are constant deliveries and collections of scrap metal coming into and out of this yard.
On the far side of the Canal at Bentley Bridge, I notice a pile of the kind of white goods collected by tatters. It will have undoubtedly been delivered from a smaller scrapyard. Items off the pile have toppled down the canal bank and lie in the water. Anyone labouring under the impression that the scrap trade can be made fully traceable should look at this and consider how – and this is a good yard. Imagine the state of the bad ones…
January 31st – Today returned to grey. Travelling to work, I was struck by the grimness of the day. Not quite as bad as Sunday, but it was still jolly depressing; overcast, constantly threatening snow but never delivering. I noted that Jockey Meadows on the Walsall Wood/Shelfield border, irritatingly referred to as Jockey Fields in the recently erected Natural England signage, looked impressively cinematic. I’d quite like some snow for a change. Maybe I’ll be lucky this week.
January 29th – I went to bed last night wholly expecting to wake up to a frosty, crisp, bright day. I was to head to Cannock Chase, maybe over Shugborough. Sadly, I hadn’t bothered to check the weather. What I woke up to was a miserable, dank, dark and dismal day. I busied myself with other things and headed out for a spin late afternoon, just before the light began to die. I went up around the new pond at Clayhanger, then back into Brownhills and up the old Railway Line to Ryders Mere. Not a soul about, only the old fox I normally see here at sundown, looking bedraggled and fed up. We both stood stock still for a few seconds, and then he turned tail and trotted off. That fox always fascinates me – I think that to him, humans are just unpredictable, odd looking foxes, tolerable company if we keep still and mind our own business.
He looked grey today. The landscape was grey. Everything looked the same. I hate days like this.
January 28th – Lichfield was as beautiful as ever, although the level of empty shops – and the decline in numbers of patrons – was very noticeable. The sunset was gorgeous, and to my delight, it wasn’t truly dark until after 5:00pm. It’s a bit previous, I know, but it really feels like darkness is coming to an end for another year. We certainly seem to have it on the run…
January 27th – It was my turn to leave early. Relishing the chance to get a commute home in the light, I left work at 4:15pm, not realising it was raining. Again stupidly finding myself without waterproof trousers, I made my sodden way home. The roads were mad, as they usually are when it rains, so I dived onto the canal in Pleck and flipped over to National Cycle Route 5 in Goscote. The rain cleared up by the time I got to Reedswood, but I was wet and chilly. Ah, the best laid plans…
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