October 15th – I returned to Brownhills late in the afternoon when it was again pouring with rain. This wasn’t everyday, lacklustre drizzle; this was dense, heavy rain that squeezed in through any not-quite-close zip or gap, and rendered me soaked. 

Once again, I found myself taking a breather on a bridge, just listening to the music – a rattling percussion, accompanied be geese honking happily.

Brownhills, you ain’t no looker; but that’s OK neither am I. But I do love you. Even on the horrid days like these.