May 8th – I’m fascinated by the Selfridges building that forms part of the Bullring in Birmingham. I’m intrigued by the curves, textures and interaction with the surrounding environment.

It’s a brave, bold piece of architecture, and I love it. I’m particularly fond of the car park link walkway, which looks like something from a 1960s sic-fi film.

It’s a surprisingly local affair. Built and project managed by Midlanders, The discs, freshly cleaned this year, were anodised in Walsall. 

You either love it or hate it, but it can’t be ignored.

May 8th – Sweet rain.

As someone who spends an inordinate amount of time outdoors, I’m fairly honed to the seasons and their timetable. That was, until this year. Spring is so late, it feels like a chunk of the year has just gone missing, lost, been edited from the tape.

The natural order being disturbed, I’ve missed little things without realising them. One being the smell of the countryside in spring after rain. When I travelled to work, the drizzle was very, very fine and almost not there at all, but heavier on my return. At Shenstone, the air was damp, musty and smelled beautifully of pollen, oilseed rape, moist earth and growth.

I didn’t know how much I’d missed that smell until today. I got off my bike, and stood there, just opening my senses to it. Not just the scent, but the colour, the light, the birdsong. 

It was glorious. Even dull days can be a joy.

May 7th – On the subject of other people’s bikes, just when did children’s trikes evolve into bonkers apparatus like this? It requires a HGV license to push, I’ll bet.

These things seem to be following the same trajectory as baby buggies; once a small thing born of convenience and fun, they’re now hugely complicated pieces of kit that don’t seem to fit anywhere easily.

Evolution, in reverse.

May 7th – Ach, the sadness of things. This elderly bike – a GT – isn’t a bad steed, but is in poor condition. I noticed it this morning leaning forlornly against the bike racks at Blake Street station. The rear mechanism hanger had sheared, and something looks like it has smashed in the derailleur. The bike had clearly been abandoned for the train. Sad.

That ruined someone’s day, I bet.

May 6th – The English are still rather eccentric in their habits.

These cars – disgorging a variety of men with step ladders and camera gear – were parked on the approach to the Haselour railway bridge, near Elford, normally a quiet backlane. They were, I was informed, waiting for a couple of old diesel locomotives to come through – Class 20s, apparently, but nobody knew when they were due exactly. This was the cause of much anticipation.

I’ve not seen anything like this before. Bizarre. It takes all sorts of folk to make a world. I hope their locos came, I really do.

May 6th – A lovely ride on on a sunny, bright spring day. Wildlife and rural charm all around. To be in England, in springtime.

I find it all the more perplexing, then, why someone would take their dog for a walk, bag up their dog’s poo, and just toss the bag on the canal towpath, without disposing of it properly. Now we not only have a health risk, we have it packaged in such a way that it’ll not rot down. Archeologists of the future are going to be utterly perplexed as to why they keep digging up random bags containing canine excrement.

Have the arseholes that do this got shit for brains? In this camp I also place those idiots who festoon hedges and trees with these revolting parcels.

May 5th – The weather was too good to resist. I took some industrial strength pain killers, and went for it. The ribs still hurt. But the sun, sweat, fresh air and awakened wildlife made this ride so special. I felt like I flew; powering through lanes and over hills. I have no idea what got into me. Up over Chasewater, on the cycle route through Burntwood to Chorley, over to Longdon Green, over Fradley, Whittington, Hademore, then the canal to Hopwas. Up the 51, back over the heath, through Weeford, Little Hay and Shenstone. A great run. The oilseed rape is starting to bloom, trees are in leaf and butterflies and bees flit by. All around, nature is crying for attention, from the first bluebells to the vivid green of fresh foliage.

For years, I’d noticed a mark on the map at Hilliards Cross ‘Memorial’ – I actually remembered to stop and look at it today. I needn’t have bothered. Funny the things that make it onto maps, sometimes.

May 4th – The rabbit population is healthy and growing locally right now. After myxomatosis swept through again a couple of years ago, the population has swelled in it’s wake. This young bunny – a tiny fellow – was sitting taking the air on the canal bank near Lichfield Road. He had little fear of me, and only made a run for it when I got within 10 yards of him. Hope he develops a bit more fear soon, otherwise I fear he’ll end up as lunch for Reynard.