February 8th – At the other end of the architectural spectrum is Silver Court. An odd, split level building, it’s one of the last untouched remnants of sixties-era Wimpey system construction that were so ubiquitous here, although this isn’t a full system build. At the lowest level are garages, at the rear; split level, above are a parade of shops. Split level again, at the rear, there’s an access pathway over the garage roofs to maisonette-style houses above the shops. It’s one of the oddest, most quirky designs I’ve ever seen, and in many ways is deserves recording as an exemplar of what happened when system build was expanded beyond it’s narrow confines. On the other hand, it’s harsh, dark and badly constructed.

On a damp winter’s night, the sodium lighting, hard suffices and dark corners make for very atmospheric photos.

February 8th – Just a short ride today. I shot up through a deserted Brownhills at 8:30pm to clear my head. As I approached Anchor Bridge, I stopped to look at the new developments there. Houses are still being built on one side, but on the other, Knaves Court looks impressive in the night. A sort of sheltered living complex for the elderly, it seems to have a fine community and high regard. I love the modernity of the building, and the boldness of the colours employed in it’s render.

A fine place.

February 7th – I guess my hands must be getting steadier, or I’m getting better at this photography hoohah. Today was pretty much the inverse of yesterday; 24 hours before the morning commute was wet, and the evening rewarded me with a dry, beautiful sunset twilight commute. Today, the morning was stunning in it’s beauty, and in the evening, I got wet.

At the Arboretum junction, I was held, as usual, at the lights. Waiting to cross, I whipped out the camera, and took a couple of quick shots before the lights changed. Oddly for a ¼ exposure, it came out quite crisp even though it was handheld.

February 6th – At the other end of the day, at Walsall, delightfully in the half-light at 5:30pm, the sunset was beautiful, and it was dry. I loved the lights, and the sky, and yet again, the exaggerated vanishing point the elongated geometry formed.

I don’t know where my love of railways at night comes from. It’s not about trains, or the experience of travel. But the light, the signals, the dark and the interaction of machinery and landscape. The windy sweep of trains passing through, and often the solitude. I think it’s from my childhood but can’t place why, exactly.

Back in the 1970s there was a record label called Late Night Feelings. One of it’s logos was a beautiful, childlike crayon drawing of the then new Intercity 125 speeding through a darkened station at night, with a pair of children watching on the platform. That’s exactly how I feel.

A mystery.

February 6th – A grim commute. It started dry, and with a decent enough day forecast, left the waterproofs at home. On the way to Blake Street, the drizzle intensified and I arrived somewhat soggy. I haven’t had much luck with the morning commutes this week. 

There’s still something captivating, though, about wet stations in the half-light. Oh well, here’s to a better day tomorrow. Hopefully.

February 5th – The cycleways of Telford were beautiful this morning. It was snowing, lightly, but the sun was out, and snow lingered in the shadier hollows and hushed my noisy wheels. Telford’s bike tracks are legendary, but not well signposted or even mapped. Now they’ve matured, they’re often very secluded, almost hidden. I could have ridden around here for hours. Just for the quiet, the air, and the light.

A diamond in the dust.

February 5th – By heck, it was nippy this morning. We’d had the merest icing sugar dusting of snow, but after the almost humid warmth of the preceding period, the cold was a shock, as was the ice on the roads, particularly Wallheath Lane. I stomped and puffed into my hands as the sun rose at Shenstone Station; it caught the clouds beautifully and I reached for the camera.

Some things are worth getting cold for.

February 4th – At the other end of the journey, an hour and a half later, I noticed the hazy sun was out, and in it’s own way, Telford looked quite impressive. I’m not fond of the mirror-glass architecture thing myself, but it does look quite monolithic here. The station itself – recently refurbished – looked OK too, although it seems to be just a bit of a superficial tart-up. 

I haven’t been here for a good while. It’s nice to be somewhere different. It’s not like coming home, but I do feel a certain attachment; like meeting an old drinking pal or forgotten workmate.

For all the stick I give it, I’m quietly fond of Telford.