February 10th – Working late, and a late journey home through Walsall Wood to drop something off. I love this small but busy High Street at night. Still retaining a village atmosphere, the lights, pubs and takeaways make it seem welcoming and pleasant.
I’ll be so glad when the light nights come back. I think I’ve had enough of the darkness now.
February 9th – Meanwhile, other signs of life – primroses in a town centre planter, just being bright and trying to get our attention.
Gorgeous little flowers, a little dishevelled by the elements, but colourful and cute, all the same.
February 9th – Noticed in Darlaston today, as I passed, so excuse the quick, rough photos. How fabulous is this? A normal terrace house porch, but tiled, with gorgeous deep-glaze tiles, which look original, and minton tiles on the floor.
A gorgeous flash of brightness on a very dull day. Can’t think why I’ve not noticed it before. Although not present in any of the other houses, I’d say this was original and the only one that remains in the row.
February 8th – At The Parade, as it bisects Brownhills Common, I note the thinning of the conifer plantations continues apace. Many of the invasive trees have now been removed, and light once again reaches the ground beneath them. This is essential work to restore the heath, and it seems to be being carried out professionally and with care.
The log piles by the roadside are huge and smell beautiful, it has to be said.
February 8th – Up at Chasewater, another sunny but hazy afternoon. The atmosphere was lovely, but the trails and cycleways were very, very muddy and the going quite hard. The deer didn’t seem to mind though, and a small group were on the wettest part of the north heath clearly enjoying the marsh.
February 7th – The season of sunsets continues, with a lovely hazy one that I chased from Lichfield to Hammerwich. It was a beautiful, ever changing sky, and sadly, it was passed by the time I got to the spot I really wanted to see it from.
But, as it happened, the pictures didn’t turn out to bad.
February 7th – I nipped down to Lichfield in the afternoon for some shopping, and it was still cold, but at least the wind had dropped. Minster pool looked terrific and glass-flat on an otherwise very overcast, misty day.
Lichfield can look good on the dullest, most dreary afternoons.
February 6th – I’m also getting used to the regular pebble-dashings from gritting trucks, spreading salt as a de-icer on the roads. As a cyclist, I’m generally quite slow moving, and because I ravel at particular times of day, my journeys often coincide with the council salt runs. On cold days they’ll be out in force, plodding down the roads of the borough, making the surfaces crunchy to ride on.
Many people have a mental block with grit: they expect it to be magic, like fairy dust, and when they find roads still icy, they’ll tell you the trucks never came, or that the council is useless. In reality, spreading rocksalt is not an exact science, and is only to improve conditions, not complete ameliorate them.
Driving skill we still be required after the glitter has gone.
I often feel for the crews, who work long hours on a generally thankless task. So I don’t mind the evening coating of grit.
Up the council gritter!
February 6th – It’s been chilly now for a couple of weeks, and I now have my winter cycling skin on, and barely feel the cold. It gets you like that in the end; you become tempered, inured, used to the climate; so much so that you feel it when it warms up that much more acutely. I love being in this position. It means when spring comes, it’s even more joyous.
At Green Lane on another cold, icy commute, I was wrapped up and felt warm, and the barren beauty of the season really struck me.
I’d like spring to hurry up, of course: but I can live with this, for now.
February 5th – In the backstreets of industrial Darlaston, part of the former Guest, Keene and Nettlefolds works: Salisbury House. Half derelict now, decaying ungracefully, a red terracotta brick edifice in mock victorian gothic complete with bay windows and cornices. The saddest part is that it’s almost impossible to get a good photographic angle on it.
This is a remarkable building – rather ugly, but beautifully executed; it has a proud heritage and it’s sad to see it carried to dust like this.
I think the internal light fittings are probably collectors items, and that lost football must have been frustrating for the poor kids that kicked it up there…
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