May 23rd – I left work early afternoon in a rain storm. I don’t mind cycling in the rain, and the wind was behind me. Periodically very heavy, the downpour lasted 45 minutes or so. I did what I usually do when it rains on the commute – headed for the canal. It’s safer than the roads, and the sights and sounds are wonderful. Here at Pleck, the rain rattled off the canal like gravel in a tin can.
May 23rd – I don’t know how long the railings have been alongside this walkway through the centre of Darlaston, but certainly long enough to be subsumed by the adjacent tree. I only noticed this today – it doesn’t matter where and how, nature will always find a way to remind us it’s in charge.
May 23rd – A dismal, dark, windblown day. Nearly an hour to get into Darlaston due to the relentless headwind. At Station Street, the former GKN works (now Caparo) loomed ominously over the town. There have been better cycling days. At least the rain held off until the wind was behind me.
May 22nd – A wind that wouldn’t take no for an answer, and far too much work to do. A short evening social ride up to Shire Oak Park – a former quarry – was in order. I haven’t been here for at least 12 months. I’m always shocked at how wooded and green it now is, when I was a kid it was a barren sand-hole, long since abandoned by it’s operators. Sad to see that with the dry spring the pools have dried up.
May 21st – Crossing the M6 Toll footbridge from Poole Crescent, Brownhills West onto Chasewater is always an odd sensory experience. The cage-like structure is disconcerting and the traffic noise from below, coupled with the visual flicker caused by light through the mesh in one’s peripheral vision disorientates. I always think that if there’s some kind of urban hell out there, it would be contstructed like this. Horrible.
May 21st – NCN 5 – the cycle track from the former cement works canal bridge near Pelsall Road to the the old level crossing at Engine Lane. This is either alcoholic OCD or too much time on someone’s hands. It’s a bit odd, because if you remove the cans, they’re replaced soon after. I don’t know either. Brownhills never has operated in the conventional space-time continuum.
May 20th – Waitrose isn’t the greatest supermarket for selection or price, and it’s certainly not the closest (although it’s only 15 minutes from here by bike), even if the do sell the best Earl Grey teabags (their own brand, surprisingly enough) – so why shop there? Easy. They give a shit about people on bicycles. Secure parking right outside the front window – so you can watch your steed whilst browsing, and free cycle trailer hire, too for those big shops.
All the other local stores don’t care – Tesco Brownhills has no cycle provision whatsoever, and at Morrisons in Burntwood and Aldridge it’s tucked out of sight, as is the cycle shelter at the new Tesco store in Lichfield. Haven’t found the one at Tesco Walsall yet….
May 20th – Shopping trip to Waitrose, in Lichfield, early evening. Pleased to see I can still make it up Castlehill Road from Stonnall with fully loaded panniers without stopping. The light had a peculiar quality today, liquid, golden and gorgeous.
I’m noticing a lot of interesting but everyday architecture lately.
May 19th – The Swag, as it’s commonly known locally, is part of the wetland band that occupies the hollow between Shire Oak Hill and Pelsall. A wet area for centuries, it stretches for miles, from the common to the north, across Clayhanger Marsh, Jockey Meadows and Stubbers Green, into the Goscote Valley. Pictured looking north from the old railway line parallel to Pelsall Road, it’s easy to see the very old spoil heaps from bell pitting in the area two centuries ago.
Nowadays, they are a peaceful, post industrial wildlife haven, as is the trackbed I stand on to capture this odd little sunset. Turning around, I see an old dog fox trotting off into the distance. This is both his territory and mine, and we are familiars. No doubt having watched my approach, he’s content that everything is in order and is away on his rounds.
May 19th – An evening ride around the common failed to reward me with a sighting of deer, but the welcome stillness after weeks of quite gusty wind was refreshing. I could hear delicate birdsong again, and the rustling of small animals scurrying out of sight. Everything on the common is now a clear, vivid emerald green, and save for a fisherman on Marklew’s Pond, I was alone. I love cycling along this boardwalk… covered by a green canopy, it feels otherworldly, and makes great noises as one rides over it’s ageing timbers.
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