Galleries

September 26th – Despite the colder, more inclement weather, the catroplis of Scarborough Road in Walsall continues to introduce new characters. This absolutely tiny, beautifully shaggy mature tabby was doing it’s best to ignore the nutty cycling guy but couldn’t resit a sniff from the safety underneath a nearby car.

And what a gorgeous set of whiskers!

September 25th – Heading home on a grey day, there was little to inspire, but whilst admiring the colours in the scrub near the new pond in Clayhanger, wishing we had sunshine to set them afire, I noticed a cat there I’d not seen before, presumably a ways away from home. A lovely ginger tabby, it gave me one glance, then high tailed it back down the old rail line path.

Even the cats didn’t want to speak to me…

September 23rd – A visit to the sadly biannual rather than annual Canal Heritage Gathering at Huddlesford, near Tamworth.

Despite suffering with a heavy cold, it was a lovely day and I met some truly wonderful people, stuffed my face with tea, cake and other grub, mooned over beautiful boats and cars and had fun.

This is a fantastic event run well and I wish it was annual. You can find out more with a large gallery on my main blog here.

September  22nd – Unusually, I had to visit Cradley on a work errand. I used to spend a huge amount of time in this busy little town, but haven’t been to visit in nearly a decade.

It changed, without me, as places do. Some familiar things remained – some shops, landmarks, factories – but there’s a shiny new bus station, lots of redevelopment an an interesting memorial to Mary MacArthur the trade unionist who fought so famously here.

The statues is by the same artist who made the Walsall Wood ones, and whilst the thought is there, it’s no Morris and it looks like money for old chain, if not rope. Oh well.

The High Street is suffering like they all are, but retains it’s quirkiness and frenetic air of business.

Around the corner, in Wood Lane, Griffin and Woodhouse still make chain to moor the world – some of it huge.

It felt sad to be back in a place I once haunted but now don’t really know at all well. Time moves on, with or without us.

September 20th – A good fungal find near conifers by the canal in Clayhanger – Sticky Bun fungus, sometimes known as Sticky Jack. When damp, this large toadstool looks slimy and unpleasant, but as a boletus it’s edible (but to avoid a bad tummy remove the slime layer before preparation), and I don’t think I’ve ever seen it here before.

Were it not sprouting from formerly contaminated land I’d certainly be picking a few for a fry up…

September 19th – I had to visit Telford and when I arrived late morning it was still quite misty with a soft, suffused sunlight. The cycleways and views of the new town are beautiful at this time of year in the right light and it’s one of the good things about autumn.

So nice to see a familiar place wearing such a pretty jacket, even if it does mean the end of the green for another year…

September 17th – By the time I arrived at Shenstone 30 minutes later, the rain and skies had cleared and there was a beautiful violet sunset, which lit my muse of Shenstone Station beautifully in the dusk.

Riding back to Brownhills, I screeched to a half to avoid someone in the road – a full grown, large adult toad, who was healthy and obstinate in the way that gets so many of these unfortunate creatures run over by vehicles.

I pulled out a tissue, and despite his protestations and jet of defensive urine, popped him to safety in the grass verge.

I stop for toads, great sunsets and often for no apparent reason whatsoever…

September 17th – I left at lunchtime and headed to Wolverhampton, hopping on to the canal at Wednesfield, then heading to Tipton at Horseley Junction. I was going to Tipton Canal Festival, a do I’d heard great things about but never been to. 

Despite the periodic rain, there was bright sunshine too and it was indeed a great event – more on my main blog later in the week. From Tipton, I meandered on the old line into Birmingham via the Toll House Loop, past the M5 viaduct with it’s maze of fascinating scaffolding and derelict dignity of Chance Glassworks.

The cats stayed out until the rain came, and the weather worsened as I approached Birmingham. The peculiarly black, wet heron summed up the feeling of the waterfront at Gas Street perfectly. Is it common for herons to be so black?

By the time I reached Aston the light was failing, the pavers on the towpath were treacherously slippery and the rain was penetrating, so I hopped on a train to Shenstone.

A great ride, despite the weather, that reminded me of why I love Birmingham and the Black Country.