Month: April 2012

April 26th – I love the backstreets of Leicester. The terraces here have a lovely, period feel and I adore the busy, community air. At 4:15 in the afternoon, sounds of music, kids playing, the smells of foods cooking. Urban life in all it’s forms. Following on from observations by Kate of Lichfield Lore and good pal [Howmuch?], today I spotted the built-in boot scrapers I had never noticed before. I just love the grace of the old corner shop, too. This was housing built to provide homes for the working class, by the industrial oligarchs. Oddly, I think they did quite a fine job.

April 25th – Everywhere you look, nature is getting it on. Trees are bursting into flower and leaf, and spring blooms punctuate the hedgerows and verges. Dripping with life, nature is really going for it now, the greens almost fluorescent in their intensity. The Horse Chestnut trees were barely alive a few days ago, now they are adorned with soft, fresh foliage and sharp stabs of blossom. Cherry and apple blossom dust gardens with pink and white. Lets hope the weather dries out a little and the bees can get to work.

April 25th – April is certainly the cruellest month of 2012 so far. Maybe I just got used to life in the dry, but commuting this week has had it’s difficult moments. I headed to Lichfield at dawn in a rainstorm, wrenching myself up the A461 against a merciless headwind. Making the train just in time, the inclement weather seemed to follow me to Leicester, where it hung around menacingly outside, like some school bully waiting to beat me anew on the way home. Fortunately, the trip home wasn’t so bad, just drizzle, really. But whatI did notice was the trees: clearly thirsty, there has been a sudden explosion in foliage and blossom. It’s an ill wind, and all that. 

April 24 – the poor weather continued. As I came home on the train we passed through a shower to the south, and I alighted at Shenstone to dry roads and darkening skies. I’d forgotten my waterproof trousers, and this didn’t look good. Conditions became increasingly threatening, and the rain started at Lynn. By the time I’d got to Sandhills, the rain was torrential and I took cowardly refuge in the bus shelter, and watched the storm for 15 minutes. Eventually, bored and cold, I plucked up courage and cycled home. Very wet, very cold and somewhat cheesed off.

Getting There: 98.5/365 a post programme thought

aideym:

After listening to the whole BBC West Midlands cycle safety phone in. I was astonished that not one cyclist considered cycling in Birmingham a safe thing to do. Now I knew the dangers of cycling before I jumped on my bike and have cycled for 35 years. I consider commuting generally a pleasure and…

Getting There: 98.5/365 a post programme thought

April 23rd – Whilst cycling home from Lichfield, I noticed that with the recent rain, everything looked that bit greener, that bit cleaner, that bit healthier. Slightly more alive. The Friary Gardens are often overlooked – poor relation to the Festival Gardens on the other side of the A51, sometimes I think I’m the only person to notice they exist. Today, they looked beautiful with a shock of purple lobelia flowering wonderfully at the edge of the steps. Soon, very soon, the greenery will be punctuated with vibrant splashes of colour. Bring. It. On.

April 23rd – In Leicester again, whilst cycling to work through the surprisingly sunny, summery suburbia, I spotted this gorgeous 80’s ladies road bike. Looks like 6 or 7 gears with down tube shifter, beautiful, pristine condition Raleigh Mixte frame, steel wheels. This is a gorgeous bike, and somebody loves it. A real gem, I just love that style of frame. My only beef would be with the untaped bars – bet they’re agony on a cold day…

April 22nd – When I got to Chasewater, it was raining heavily. I didn’t care, but it made photography difficult, even with the Gorillapod. I took a few halfhearted shots – the lake looked brilliant, but any attempt to point the camera in that direction resulted in a wet lens. Water level seemed up a bit, too. I cycled back via the parade. At the M6 Toll bridge, I passed two paramedics, parked up awaiting their next call. They looked at me as though I was mad. Perhaps I am, lads, perhaps I am…

April 22nd – I ducked out of it all day. Today was one of the very few days, where if I hadn’t been doing 365daysofbiking, I wouldn’t have left home. I felt ropey, the weather was crap. I had lots of other… stuff to do. But my commitment is real, and I left after tea.It was drizzling steadily. But again, the bike felt good under me. I had waterproofs on. This could just work. I headed onto the canal in Brownhills, and cycled up over Catshill Junction towards Chasewater. It was OK. I stopped to take pictures at Lane’s Farm – and then I saw them… swallows. Hunting insects in the dusk and rain. Swallows, damn it! They’d come all the way from Africa to here, to hunt insects and breed. You can’t bottle that. I continued up the canal in the dusk, enjoying every minute. 

Cycling, an antidepressant. Ride one, twice a day.