February 9th – I’d seen the little dog at Waitrose before – tethered to the trolley rail, he waits patiently and forlornly for his master. He’s a gorgeous little dog, but he does look so very sad. I could have taken him home.

The cat, on the other hand, clearly found me nothing more that a curiosity. Sat on a shed roof in Wall, he was surveying the comings and goings in the road below, and seemed a bit peeved that I’d spotted him. I think we met a couple of weeks before in the churchyard. He’s a lovely friendly boy.

There’s more than a hint of the Cheshire cat about the marmalade fellow, I think…

February 9th – The day was pretty grey, really, but had it’s moments. Fed up of the mud and slurry of recent haunts, I cycled down into Lichfield to pick up some shopping, and I returned via the back lanes around Wall.

The winter panorama of Hammerwich was stunning, but the wind was evil, and it blew me down Pipehill at a fearsome speed. Passing through Sandfields, I stopped to look at the Pumping Station, an architectural gem marooned in a sea of modern mundanity. I wish the preservation campaign every success.

At Wall, as the sun was beginning to set, I found my first snowdrops of the year growing in the churchyard.

Spring will come, I can feel it now. It wasn’t dark until gone 5:30pm..

February 8th – I took a spin up to Burntwood in a fearsome wind. It was the first time in my life I can actually say I was blown off my bike. Fortunately, only against a fence, and no harm done. 

The day was grey, periodically squally and oddly warm, really. Chasewater was pretty much deserted. Even the bargee Alsation dog, keeping watch onAnglesey Basin was finding the wind a bit harsh.

The outlet valve is still closed, and water continues to flow down the spillway.

There has to be an end to this soon.

February 7th – It had been a hard, long day. For the third time this week, I hit the canal back into Brownhills, but not before I’d stopped to reflect at Jockey Meadows in Walsall Wood. The heath there is sodden, and the meadow is still in winter clothing, but the daffodils here too are sprouting. No sign of snowdrops, though, which was sad.

The canal overflow is working to high capacity at Clayhanger Common, and I was interested to note the trash screen was clear of debris – either someone is cleaning it out or the canal isn’t that polluted these days. Think it’s probably the latter.

I paused on Catshill Junction bridge to look over to the wasteland where Bayley House once stood. One of the two high rise blocks demolished here just shy of a decade ago, permission has finally been granted for a new canalside development here.

Things change – the seasons, the weather, the skyline. But sometimes, the constancy of just loving where you are is enough after a tough day. Standing there in the weak February sun this afternoon, I really felt that attachment deeply. 

I absorbed the space, the sun, the smell of the damp earth, the canal.

I got back on my bike, and rode home.

February 7th – I was over in Telford early, and returned to Darlaston at lunchtime. In contrast to the day before, the weather started out rainy, but turned springlike pretty much as soon as I left the house. The cycleways of Telford were beautiful in the sunlight, and the station at lunchtime oddly quiet, but a much nicer place to be for a bit of sunlight.

Why does the weather keep taunting me like this? Why am I scaring the sun away?

February 6th – I’d been in Telford, in a building with no windows. When I came to leave, I realised it was raining fairly heavily. Nothing to do, but don the waterproofs and go for it. The journey was pretty miserable, really; delays at Telford and Birmingham made for a long, damp trudge home, but at least the wind was behind me. 

I don’t think I’ve ever seen a continuously warm, wet winter like this. Last year was bad enough, but at least we had variety with the snow. This is just getting boring now…

February 5th – I know little about this, and although peripherally aware of the Aldridge Garden of Reflection for some time (if that’s the right name), I’d never stopped to look. Today, passing through the town on my way home, I stopped to check it out.

On the corner of the High Street and Little Aston Road is a small, landscaped and sculpturally paved area with benches, flowerbeds and decorative friezes in the paving. It’s very sweet, and a little oasis. The reliefs in the paving relate to aspects of Aldrige life – history, present and so forth. There’s an interesting large compass too, pointing out the nearby major landmarks. Overall I was very impressed.

Not sure who was behind this, although Aldridge Rotary Club are mentioned. I must find out more about it.

I wish I’d stopped to look here sooner…

February 5th – One step forward, two back. I was again out early, and returned mid afternoon, and unthinkingly clashed with the school run yet again. I hopped on the canal as I did the previous afternoon – but the the day’s downpour had transformed the drying out towpaths of the day before into slimy, slurry-smothered watercourses once more.

Whoever’s doing the rain dance, you can stop now. Honest, it’s OK…

February 4th – Another click, and the seasonal mechanism advances a notch. On the canal bank at Walsall Wood, hazel catkins, one of the first signs of spring… Then, near Clayhanger Bridge in the undergrowth, daffodils are growing and starting to form buds.

Jack-in-the-green has tapped his cane on the ground and told the plants it’s time to grow. More power to him!