November 2nd – Further on my way to work, I caught something out of the corner of my eye n a patch of roadside verge grass. On the neatly mown turf were lots of one of my favourite toadstools – the delicate and very short lived Japanese Parasol. With a delicate crinkled cap no larger than a two pound coin and a very slight stature, these pretty little fungi will be gone without trace within a day.
These are a wonderfully fragile, transient beauty and I’m so glad to have seen them this year.
November 2nd – Despite the gloom and cooling weather, there are still patches of colour to be found. On a dew-dampened canal towpath as dawn swelled over the Black Country, the clover still looks perfect in purple.
The dark, cold months are about finding joy where you can…
November 1st – In Telford for a change, I noted that the cotoneaster that grows in profusion here was showing a lovely crop or red, plump berries which will be good for the small song birds that love this colourful fruit – particularly blackbirds.
When I see such a good harvest of berries, I often wonder if nature is providing excess food for a harsh winter in might somehow know is coming…
October 31st – Lunchtime, and recrossing Kings Hill to the retail park I stopped and reflected on the change here, and then noted that whilst change is good, it’s also good that some things are apparently changeless – like the twin sisters, the two churches that top the hill in the centre of Wednesbury.
I love this view, now going golden in the shortening autumn days, it looks stunning particularly in the sun, but is still remarkable even on this grey, textureless day.
They saw the factories beneath them come and go – lesser, but more dramatic temples to hot metal, oil and graft, and they now witness silently the march of the warehouse, distribution centre and retail park.
I have a feeling they’ll be seeing those out too.
October 31st – Passing down the Darlaston Road to Wednesbury over Kings Hill, you realise that the area is changing. While it’s still very industrial, a couple of the old, large factories here have been replaced by new build housing.
The old Exidoor factory that made panic bolts was lost to apartments some years ago, and over the last couple of years, a pleasant enough, but unremarkable estate has grown on the site of the former Servis domestic appliance factory pretty much next door.
Servis was a household name, started by nearby power press manufacturer Wilkins and Mitchell who are also now gone; they made passable washing machines and the like which were functional, and often very innovative (The Servis Quartz was the first ever electronically controlled automatic washing machine) but suffered from poor quality and reliability.
Gradually outsold and outclassed by competitors due to the traditional British twin failures of lack of investment and corner cutting, Servis fell from UK ownership to various international owners before finally collapsing.
The works, which once even had it’s own brass band, fell silent, was demolished, the ground reclaimed, and now houses sprout from where the ground once shook under the blow of heavy presses.
Such is the story across modern Britain. We are in the middle of great change.
October 30th – On my return, I popped into Kings Hill Park since it was such a beautiful afternoon. There was nobody around, peace reigned – apart from the normal industrial sounds of Darlaston living and breathing, which is a sort of background music to me now – and the only activity was from Mrs. Squirrel here, checking me out for food.
Sore from the hospital and feeling weary after the ride, I sat and thought, had a snack and something to drink, and gently recharged in my nowhere garden.
The park looks even better in it’s current cloak of autumn, with beautiful flowers still in bloom and the leaves turning so prettily.
This is one of the gems of the Black Country, yet what tour guide ever mentions Kings Hill Park? What guidebook ever dared to breathe the name?
This is just our peaceful, beautiful secret. And I love it so.
October 29th – A run up over the old Ironstone Road, Prospect Village and Rainbow Hill, crossing Birches Valley, Penkridge Bank and down Abrahams Valley was in order, particularly as British Summer Time had ended and darkness would fall an hour earlier.
The forest is beautiful at the moment, and with the weather getting cold, all but the trail centre at Birches Valley were pretty quiet. The ride was a blast but the sudden cold was a shock.
It’s coming on winter and I’m back in love with Cannock Chase again.
October 29 – Three dear were still resting in the warm afternoon sun on the practice pitch at the Rugby Club near Chasewater. To adult females and a fawn, they were tolerant and relaxed as they chewed, yawned and napped, pretty much oblivious to my presence.
We’re so lucky to have these magnificent animals in out environment.
October 28th – A busy day, and I returned at dusk through Chasewater – where the deer were still loafing on the Rugby pitch and seem to have taken up permanent residence. This is remarkable, and not 20 yards away, the clubhouse was as active and noisy ars a busy social club can be, and the deer clearly weren’t bothered at all. The ability of red deer to integrate seamlessly into urbanity is astonishing.
The sunset on the canal, returning to Brownhills, was also beautiful, but dramatic, and the wind was biting. It was good to be near home.
October 27th – Yet the day had it’s best in store for me. Labouring up past Aldershaw feeling tired, I returned via Chesterfield, Wall Butts, Hilton and Stonnall in a truly glorious, remarkable golden hour of beautiful orange light and glowing autumn colour.
It’s amazing how one afternoon can completely transform your mood and lift you from the gloom you’ve been in.
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