December 13th – Struggling up the Black Cock Bridge due to tiredness and another late night at work, my phone rang and I stopped to answer by the junction with Hall Lane.
This little, discrete hamlet was years ago called Bullings Heath and sitting in the lee of the bridge flank, there are many legends about the subsidence here caused by minewovrkings below.
Whilst there was sinking, it wasn’t a bad as purported, and these things generally never are, but legends persist and they suggest the houses on the left were once level with the canal.
Tonight, Bullings Heath nestled in the darkness, and was keeping it’s secrets to itself, and looking for all the world like a somnambulant, rural hamlet.
A historic conundrum.