Galleries

August 13th – I left near lunchtime for a hopefully long, sunny ride; but although the day was temperate, the sun soon disappeared and I found no energy in my tank. I contented myself with a slow bible up to Chasewater, back to Stonnall, Shentone, Little Hay, Hints, Tamworth and up the canal to Hpwas and Whittington, before returning via Lichfield and Wall.

On the way, I passed through the Lammas Land at Shenstone – a lovely bit or parkland by the Footherley Brook, and noted the bizarre ‘shining stone’ sculpture was still resident in the stream for all the world looking like robot excrement.

Shenstone Park is still as beautiful as ever, with it’s carefully tended verges and rolling farmland, and I also noted the surprisingly voluptuous scarecrow is still scaring the crows at Fazeley.

A decent ride, but I really wasn’t feeling like it. 

August 12th – One local treat I look forward to in late summer is local growing wild apples.

I don’t know who planted the row of fruit trees of different varieties which I discovered in a remote spot 10 years ago, but they tend to fruit copiously and the delicious apples, ungathered, rot on the ground. Every year for a decade, I’ve made a point of passing, checking the crop and gathering a pocketful. This year the russets are a little hard and tart, but the cox’s are delicious.

A lovely little local secret.

August 12th – An run out after a busy day saw me investigating a few things I’d been meaning to locally. It was a bright but slightly hazy evening, and I took the opportunity to try some familiar zoom shots from near Fishpond Wood above Stonnall, and the perennial favourite Lichfield from the quarry gateway.

It was a bit too muzzy for Lichfield, but Wall came out beautifully, unlike the familiar towers of Shenstone. I suppose the mist and haze must have been sitting in a depression or hollow between us, unlike Wall.

Wonder what the science is here?

August 11th – Not far from Shenstone near Footherley, wheat and barley still languish in the fields, the harvest this year disrupted by poor weather. This crop in particular has started to look grey, and the farmer must be getting anxious. Already blackening, it won’t take much for mould to set in and the crop be ruined.

I hope they have enough dry weather to complete this weekend.

August 11th – I had to pop to Shenstone on an errand on my way home from work, and the chance to ride these sleepy, familiar lanes, even on a dull day is wonderful. 

I crossed Church Hill through the churchyard of St Johns, purely as I hadn’t been up there in a while. I have to say, the grounds maintenance at the rear in the old graveyard is currently not a patch on what it was, but I guess the wildlife appreciates the lack of disturbance.

The church remains what it has always been to me: A remarkable building in a beautiful spot, although not to my taste: A competent, muscular design in Victorian dark gothic that screams foreboding at me, not praise.

However, always good to see this landmark of my life. Love or hate it, it’s a remarkable thing.

August 10th – Oak galls continue to fascinate, and on this tree in Victoria Park, Darlaston, there’s quite a display of knopper galls, the first I’ve seen this year.

Like other oak parasites, the knopper wasp lays eggs in it’s host, secreted in a chemical that corrupts the cellular DNA of the host plant matter causing the gall too grow. In this case, the target is the acorn itself, and on this tree, one can see some acorns blighted by two such galls.

As with others, the egg hatches and ithe wasp larva eats the gall and grows safe in it’s corrupted acorn, before boring it’s way out when mature.

Also on this tree, the more conventional wasp gall – the common ‘oak apple’ of folklore, a spherical gall grown the same way.

These galls don’t harm the host, but do reduce the functional acorn crop. I’d love to know just why the oak is targeted so particularly with the and not so much other trees…

August 9th – The day ended much better than it started. Still feeling sad, but the rain had stopped, the sun had come out and all around me things were trying to make me smile. 

The chocolate lab enjoying the wind flapping his ears in traffic in Walsall town centre; the kitten dozing on the bins in The Butts; the coos actually came to see me at Jockey Meadows and a chance encounter with normally snooty eyebrow cat at Catshill Junction all made me feel a bit better.

When stuff’s bad and life feels grim, sometimes the best thing to do is keep riding and enjoy the small things life shows you.

August 9th – But later, I had to go to Telford, and whilst the air of melancholy remained, I couldn’t remain miserable. The weather was heavy, but there was beauty in it, even in the doomed footbridge at Telford Station, which despite it’s faults was a lot drier than the New Street Station I’d come through earlier.

Berries and apples glistened with raindrops. Water dripped from leaf and roof. It was quiet, but softly musical.

The rain doesn’t care for my despair.

However bad the weather, life must go on. And so it it does.

August 8th – I passed the Jockey Meadows coos in poor light and soft rain as I cycled home. They were near mostly near the gate having a project meeting and I felt sad for them in the wet, although that was utterly daft, as they don’t appear to care about, or even notice the weather.

They are doing a good job and the meadow is visible freer of scrub and tall grass now, and I guess soon the lads will move on.

Although one must always treat cattle with respect, I do love these gentle, inquisitive and sociable animals. 

August 7th – On the way home and travelling through Stonnall after a tiring day of firefights and frustration, I stopped on Cartersfield Lane to watch as drifting smoke obscured the distant pumping station. My astonishment was short lived though when I got nearer and realised it was the same wheat-dust from the same machine working in a different field to the evening before.

Combine harvesters really are the most fascinating machines. 

Harvest must be like the ultimate triumph of the year for an arable farmer, and the hard work and long hours are clear. I bet the dust isn’t much fun in that thing either.

Good to see the harvest home.