Month: March 2017

March 13th – This is a terrible photo, and sorry about that, but the mood I was in precluded concentrating on image quality; but the subject did very much cheer me up. On the way home, I rode up Shire Oak Hill from Stonnall in the dark. Since I was tired and not 100%, I rode up the pavement, as I feared my speed would not keep with the traffic. It was then I noticed them.

Loads of clumps of beautiful, white spring snowflakes – leucojum vernum- which are very like snowdrops, but the blooms are more bell shaped, the plants taller, with more foliage. Each flower has tiny green tips to the petals which the harshness of the flash sadly stripped away in the photo.

These gorgeous flowers grow in increasing numbers in this spot every year and they always surprise me. Today, on this dark and weary night, they were a real tonic.

March 13th – I headed for work feeling otherworldly and not really well at all. Nothing specific, but I was very tired, and I felt light headed, and not really there. On the way, the only thing that really broke my mood was the profusion of daffodils, which seem really early this year (but I don’t think they are).

I booked an appointment with the doctor for later in the week, and got to see a medical friend in the meantime.She told me I’d got low blood sugar and a previous medical issue was most likely playing up again, it would seem.

Sometimes it’s just nice to know you’re not losing the plot, and you really are unwell. Because once you know you’re not well, you know you’ll get better.

March 12th – Perhaps unwisely, I continued on a ride I’d done many times – Down through Stonnall, Shenstone Woodend, Canwell, then to Hints, Hopwas and Whittington via the canal; from there back over Common Barn and the heath to Weeford and back home via Shenstone. It’s a short ride. I know it like the back of my hand.

I struggled and fought. 

At Shenstone on the way home, it felt like I’d never reach home. When I did get there, I was in bed well before midnight.

All this was a shame, as spring was showing the way; lambs were in the fields, the weeping willows were coming into leaf and daffodils marked every verge, hedgerow and garden. It really was beautiful.

Shame I felt so rotten.

March 12th – I felt awful. Really bad, as if I had the mother and father of hangovers. I’d not had alcohol, and it could have been an MSG thing, but I was dehydrated and groggy. But I had to go out.

I called in at Shire Oak Park to check the frog pools to see if they’d mated there yet – if caught at the right time, that place is like toad soup but today, it was devoid of amphibia – but a heathy patch of spawn in each attested to the frog’s presence at some point.

I was interested in the difference in the frogspawn. I know that frogs produce globular ‘clumps’, and toads ribbons, but the frogspawn seemed to vary from the huge ones in my hand to tiny eggs the size of a small blackcurrant. I wonder why that is? Age and health of the female? Different types of frog?

Never noticed the variety in this stuff before.

March 11th – I wasn’t feeling well. An unpleasantly off-colour feeling had been descending over me for a few weeks. I ached. I felt dizzy. Something wasn’t right.

I grabbed a takeaway on the way home and shot from Clayhanger to Brownhills over the Spot Path and common – where, despite my fun, I found the migrating amphibians – out in huge numbers enjoying the drizzle – charming and fascinating. I love frogs and toads.

I took care where I was riding, and noted creatures of all sizes and hues. Very one of them obeying the same seasonal imperative.

Nature has a way of pulling you up short.

March 11th – Unusually for a Saturday, I was at work all day, and returned on a pleasant ride that started in daylight, and finished in darkness after a trip to the supermarket.

Hopping on the canal at Bentley Bridge in Darlaston Green, I noted the resurfacing of this section of towpath was well underway, and a nice job it is too – although more beneficial than the previous stretch, the towpath wasn’t that bad here and I don’t really see the point – but it is nice and I’ll use it more. 

The sweep over the derelict arm bridge near the Anson Branch rolls wonderfully and will be fun at speed.

At Pleck I was puzzled by the graffiti sprayed on the wall behind the wine warehouse – anyone any idea what this is about? I feel it’s genuinely historical rather than just being the work of some addled stoner but can’t put my finger on it.

March 10th – The light held over the lanes as I headed for home – not a great sunset, but a good one, nonetheless. The lanes were eerie and quiet, and contrary to my expectations, it seems Keepers Cottage at Footherly remains. I had expected it to be demolished, as had the derelict cottages further down the lane; however, time and the elements seem to be doing the job instead.

A lovely, spooky commute home.

March 10th – A sign spring is finally upon us happened this evening – I returned from Birmingham just in time to catch the remains of the daylight dying over my homeward commute from Shenstone station. This is always welcome, and it’s nice to photograph this beloved landmark in anything other than darkness and sodium light.

This is just the best station. A great place to depart and come back to…

March 9th – A gorgeous, sun soaked early spring commute, a little bit into the wind, but no less gorgeous for that. I rode fast through the backstreets of walsall, enjoying the sun on my face, and for some reason today at 7am, all I could smell in Darlaston was bacon cooking.

I spotted these gorgeous primroses, just dying to be noticed in Kings Hill Park. They almost glow in the sunshine.