Galleries

May 15th – A wet, horrible morning commute with the wind against me. The only brightnesses I found in the gathering dark were these dog roses and some ox-eye daisies. 

No matter how bad the weather, summer flowers are a guaranteed pick-you-up that will leave you smiling. And is it me, or do wild roses always look best with a covering of raindrops?

May 14th – A gorgeous warm run out to Fradley, Barton, Rosliston and Syerscote was just the tonic I needed. I didn’t take many photos – sometimes, you just don’t – but the landscape was beautiful, particularly the river section of the Trent and Mersey Canal at Alrewas, where this most utilitarian of canals kisses the Trent. 

I noted also a beautiful red horse chestnut in full bloom in the sheep pasture by Wychnor Church. Those really are lovely flowers.

I really enjoyed the sun on my back today.

May 13th – A trip into Walsall and a journey back along the canal through Aldridge didn’t reward me with the urban wildlife treats I was hoping for; I still have yet to find the owls at Ridian Bridge, the herons were all camera shy and I saw neither hide nor hair of a kingfisher.

But I did see that the hawthorn (or may) blossom was in full force now; smelling strongly in that grubby, fetid way it does, the flowers are profuse this year and at the back of the old Duckhams plant in Aldridge, red and white make a lovely side-by-side display.

Not what I’d hoped for but not a bad show, either.

May 12th – The rest of the day was marked with damp natural beauty and curiosity; the wild-growing roses were out in St. Matthews churchyard in Walsall, and they fit this decaying corner of God’s Acre beautifully, while not far away, also decaying, the oddity that is Highgate Windmill was standing sentry over the quiet, respectful urbanity as it has done for centuries.

I noted all along the journey that marble oak galls are surprisingly prolific this season, and last year must have been very good for the parent wasps who create them. They hang like red fruits in the oak trees.

Sad to see the Swan and Mitre in Aston still empty: A remarkable terracotta late Victorian pub, hideously beautiful in mock gothic in that way only Victorian boozers can be, this spectacular building holds many memories for me. Many a time I leant on that railing one a summer evening with a pint in my hand watching the comings and goings to late-shift local factories.

Reflecting, I have little physically to show for the few short years I spent haunting this place, but I do have a lifelong friendship and some truly wonderful memories.

The past is best thought of in terms of what was found, not that which was lost.

May 12th – Slowly recovering from my tribulations, I headed off to Birmingham along the canals and through Sandwell Valley Park for some light relief. It was a dreadfully dark, rain-spattered day but the birdlife I saw was incredible. From the bluetits near Park Hall to the young waterfowl all along the canals of the area, multiplication really is the name of the game.

Glad to see the six cygnets all present and correct at Catshill Junction, and who knew gulls could yawn?

May 11th – Still in recovery downtime, I pottered out around the canals and commons to try and find the cygnets and deer. I drew a complete blank on the Watermead swans – nothing unusual there, swans possess an almost unique ability to disappear when you’re looking for them – and the dear nearly defeated me too.

I say nearly, as we more or less bumped into each other unawares. I was poking around the scrub on the old rail line near Engine Lane looking for industrial remnants, and these two ladies were heading the other way. I’m not sure who was more surprised, me or them.

A real pick-me-up on an otherwise fruitless journey.

May 10th – Going stir crazy, I escaped again at sunset, and headed up to Chasewater, just for the hell of it. I was captivated by the colour of a late-spring sunset, by the huge, yellow moon over Sandhills and the mist rising off the surface of the canal due to an inversion.

It’s a long time since I caught a sunset and dusk as lovely as this. After a very trying few days, it was lovely to be out in the dead calm and still, to feel the night chill encroaching and hear the soft sounds of Chasewater at dusk – calling birds, lapping water and the chatter of ducks and geese.

Recovery needs many things, but one thing that really does help is peace and beauty when you least expect them.

May 10th – I pottered into Brownhills for a mid-afternoon recovery ride to do so errands, and with the warm afternoon sun, everything was beautiful and felt right: the canal at Silver Street is wearing it’s summer jacket of green and blue, the boats and waterfowl were quietly busying themselves and all was right with the world for a change. 

Also busy, but probably busy doing nothing, a black and white resident of the canalside who took up a better vantage point to observe me, observing him.

The canal cats really are wonderful at the moment.

May 8th – The one blossom that’s always overlooked, but is actually beautiful is Elder; elderflowers of course make great wine and soft drinks,not to mention the berries but the blooms look pretty too, and smell divine – all the more welcome as often elder grows in margins, edgelands and waste ground otherwise considered ugly. 

Here on the cycleway at Goscote there’s a prolific and strong showing of the creamy white blossom which most be a good sign for the home-brew types this year too.