February 4th – It’s the start of a transient period, and it didn’t start well. Over the next few weeks, I’m all over the place, and today, I had to go to Telford. Leaving early, I pointed the bike at Shenstone, and went for it. Checking the train information before I went out, I was happy my train was on schedule. Getting to the station, I found it had been cancelled. To add insult to injury, the train that usually makes an extra stop in such circumstances didn’t, and thundered through the station leaving me forlorn for 30 minutes as it got light. This meant I’d miss my connection to Telford and be an hour late.

Fortunately, I got to New Street just as the late-running Aberystwyth train pulled in – a Benny Hill style dash through the station ensued, and I just caught the train, meaning I was only 15 minutes late after all. 

I had plenty of time at Shenstone to muse on the dawn, Monday mornings and the skyline. There’s something about that tower and it’s gargoyles that fascinate me.

Hopefully, tomorrow will be less stressful.

February 3rd – Out at sunset again, and another good one. I had something to deliver up the Wood so headed up the canal. As I rounded the bend at Catshill Junction, the quality of the sky really stunned me. I followed it up along the canal looking for a good vantage point, and never really found one; there would have been some great views over Bullings Heath were they not impossible to get to due to the canal bank copse and barbed wire. As it was, I contented myself with the three bridges – Clayhanger, the Black Cock and Lathams Bridge, behind Barons Court.

You can’t beet a good winter sunset.

February 2nd – By chance, I caught a good sunset. Out late afternoon to go shopping, I cycled up  through central Brownhills and hopped on the canal near Anchor Bridge. Near Home Farm, I caught sight of what I thought was sand spread on the fields; it was actually soft, red sunshine, although it was cloudy directly overhead. As I sped to Chasewater to catch it, the light tantalised me with glimpses between houses and over the hilltop village of Hammerwich. Beautiful.

I’d almost forgotten it was soon to be the season of sunsets again. Late autumn, early spring. Every year. Love it. As I noticed earlier in the week, the seasons wheel is turning… it wasn’t dark tonight until gone 5pm.

This makes me very happy indeed.

February 1st – this is one for the bike anoraks. I spotted this classic, original, early 80s Raleigh Arena frame on the train home. It’s been converted to a nice fixie, with modern wheels and a nice Brooks swallow saddle. I think it’s quite new, as the chain was bright and the rims and tyres looked like new. In the original design, there would have been 5 or 10 Sachs Hurret gears, controlled by down tube shifters. I wanted one of these as a kid.

The effect was only spoiled by the owner leaving his empty water bottle behind. Odd that he didn’t appreciate being reminded that he’d forgotten it…

January 31st – Evening, Birmingham. It’s about a quarter past five, and the city is sliding gracefully into darkness at the end of another working day. I was here to see the lights come on, in and around Colmore Row and the Cathedral, the grounds of which are affectionately known as ‘Pigeon Park’.

People slag Birmingham off continually. It’s beautiful, if you open your eyes. This could almost be Belgravia.

My city, my past, present and future. How I adore it.

January 31st – Someone asserted yesterday that I should be glad of increased cycling facilities in the UK. I am, and I’m not. Here’s why.

On the Coventry Road, Birmingham, near the St. Andrews ground, there are lights to control a ‘y’ junction. Prior to the junction, there is a green tarmac filter lane leading to an advance stop line (ASL). The idea is that cyclists use the green lane up the inside of the traffic to access the green ASL box to place themselves safely at the head of the queue. This rarely works in practice, and to me, is actively encouraging dangerous cycling behaviour.

If I were to take the lane up the side of the traffic, as the skip lorry is occupying the ASL, I’d likely stop next to him. Right in his blind spot. Cyclists tend to be quicker off the mark at lights than lorries and chances are we’d interact at the pinch point a few yards ahead. If the lorry goes down left fork here (which he did, without indicating the intention), he would not see the cyclist and possibly lead to the cyclist being crushed at the pinch point between the railings and the lorry.

This road position kills the vast majority of adult cyclists mortally injured on the roads in the UK. It’s bloody stupid to get up the inside left of a line of traffic, as drivers don’t expect it and often, physically can’t see you. Between the ‘safety’ railings and the lorry wheels, you’re toast. Or rather, puree.

This cycling ‘facility’ encourages dangerous road positioning, and in my view, makes this junction more dangerous to the inexperienced cyclist.

I’ll celebrate cycling facilities when they’re safe, and designed properly. Not ill-thought out lip service like this.

January 30th – Another sign of the season’s wheel inexorably rotating came to my attention tonight. Stopping to attend to a sticking gear cable in Shelfield, on the corner of the verge, just under a hedgerow, something is stirring. Quietly, determinedly, a yellow army is emerging. Using only the power of cellular hydraulic action and the mystical imperative for growth, some celestial trigger has kickstarted spring. Soon, the foot solders will be amongst us, bright, yellow and beautiful.

It’s started now. There’s no going back. This makes me very happy indeed.

January 30th – The sun came out today, and it felt springlike, which I didn’t mind at all. I guess I’d been mourning the passing of the snow – at night, it makes the landscape light in a way that’s almost joyful, and when the thaw comes, it’s like being plunged back into darkness. I’d felt it keenly since Sunday; the weather has been bloody grim, and to turn out on a sunny morning – even with a wind crafted on Satan’s back step – was a joy to the heart.

I’ve actually found a ramp down to the Solihull platform at Moor Street, which I thought had been closed years ago. As I made my way to it today. I looked at the road system, and the buildings around. I can remember the old Bull Ring well, the network of 60s subways and overpasses. But I can’t place any of it, which I find sad. I know Manzoni Gardens was here somewhere, but…

Brum was also showing beautifully from the overbridge at Tyseley. With decent light, I could zoom right in, and I noticed something I’d not done before; before the mosque, and the shiny modernity of the city centre, there are rows of terrace roofs and chimneys in Small Heath and Sparkbrook. I found it fascinating.