Author: BrownhillsBob

I told the truth - but told it bent. Wandering around bemused and ranty since 2007.

November 15th – Late in the day, I popped into Birmingham to meet a prospective new cwork colleague, and came back as I often used to frequently, through a somnambulant, night-time Birmingham New Street Station.

The renovations here seem to have finished – although they don’t look it and the Stephenson street footbridge looks like the work stopped abruptly halfway through. But then, there’s only so much polishing and sprinkling with cheap glitter that can mask this huge architectural turd.

The place was charming though in it’s own night-time way, and once again, that late-night feelings vibe started to hit me.

If you don’t know what I’m talking about, see this post here. 

Why does that haunt me so?

November 14th – Urban planners and groundsmen seem to like ornamental cherry trees. They grace town centres, open spaces, park and industrial estates. They don’t go particularly wild, take little care and offer beautiful blossom in spring, and gorgeous leaf colours in autumn, like these at Hortonwood.

They certainly brightened my day on a very, very dull morning.

November 14th – I had to go to Telford, and I was keen to see the work on the footbridge replacement is really moving on apace now. 

Sectional fencing is up, footpaths and steps have closed, barriers are up and alternate footways tarmac and ready. 

And the sad realisation that a favourite station flowerbed was set to be lost, with an excavator standing by.

Oh well, that’s progress for you…

November 13th – I wanted to take some pictures of Darlaston War Memorial with it’s proud array of wreaths and keepsakes, but perhaps fittingly, there were a class of primary school children there with their teacher, explaining the thing, was was heart-warming and most welcome.

Instead, I took a shot of the metal poppy ornamentation on the railings of Kings Hill Park, yet another beautiful feature of a remarkable place.

We shall never forget.

November 12th – Two ride cams for the Chase fans: The first is from Brocton Field just by the trig pillar to the valley floor at Sherbrook, a lovely challenging descent. The soundtrack is Bob Walkenhorst’s ‘Broke Down’

‘Where’s Bob? Where did he go? I don’t know he was here a second ago – he must have broke down’

The second if from Pepper Slade, down the length of Abraham’s Valley to Seven Springs. Soundtrack ‘Earth Angel’ by Dreadzone.

Both films are real time, filmed using a GoPro mounterd on the head tube of the bike.

(Source: https://player.vimeo.com/)

November 12th – Also on the Chase on this magical afternoon, memorials of two very different, but conjoined wars.

Since it was Remembrance Sunday, I took in the Katyn Memorial, to the 25,000 Polish people – from troops to doctors, police to teachers – massacred in cold blood by the order of the Soviet Secret Police in the Katyn Forest, Poland, in 1940. The memorial was erected on the Chase some time ago, as Cannock has always had a large Polish population, from migration around the time of the Second World War. 

Shamefully, it took the Russians 50 years to admit to this atrocity, proof that the second half of the full two-part World War play inflicted it’s heaviest cost on Eastern Europe. There were many atrocities committed, by several different forces, all self-encapsulated horrors; it was as if grudges and conflicts unresolved by the First World War exploded and joined together upon the commencement of the Second.

The First world war was of course just as atrocious, but in different ways; the loss of a generation of men in the mud of Northern Europe can never be forgotten, particularly for a war ended by negotiation with no real victors. But the grave of Freda, the mascot of the New Zealand Rifles who were stationed here on Brocton Field towards the end of WW1 is almost whimsical in comparison to the Katyn tribute. But both are eloquent. Both are respected and tended.

And yet, we seem to learn so little from them.

November 12th – It was a remarkable day. On Penkridge Bank, I saw something I was very privileged to see that I have only seen twice before in my entire life, and never with such close proximity and clarity: A fallow deer rut.

A victorious male, with the unique combination of pomposity and stupidity only male deer can truly demonstrate, was protecting and attempting to serve his largely disinterested harem. He called repeatedly, paced around and nuzzled his companions. He was a big lad, in good condition. There were probably upward of 30 animals in his group, scattered in a copse dappled with soft autumnal sunlight.

This was a splendid sight and one I was very lucky to see.

November 12th – A stunning day on Cannock Chase, probably the best I’ve had in years, just going to show that you never know what tomorrow will bring. I felt well, happy and energetic.

Following my annual attendance of the Remembrance Sunday service in South Staffordshire, feeling the sombre nature of the day, I did what I always do when feeling sad: Headed for air and open space. Entering the Chase at Castle Ring, then over to Stonepit Green, Wandon, Rainbow Hill, Slitting Mill, Birches Valley, Penkridge Bank, Marquis Drive, Brocton Field, Freda’s Grave, Sherbrook Valley, Pepper Slade, Wolseley Plain, Abraham’s Valley on the finest, brightest autumn day I’ve had for years.

I saw a fallow deer rut. I saw beauty, felt the cold air in my lungs, climbed hills and cruised trails, took in views. I felt alive again.

All topped out with a spectacular sunset.

This is why I ride a bike.

November 11th – I wasn’t well following the procedure I’d had in the week, as I’d  neglected my medication, so I took a short spin out for some air after dark.

It was a good chance to try long exposure photography, and the results weren’t too bad. But my heart wasn’t in it: I was cold, tired, fed up, and returned home with a heavy heart.