December 26th – The dirty old river Tame that gives it’s name to Tamworth and doubles the Trent by draining Birmingham, was in impressive form yesterday. I’m interested in the flood pattern of this river, which runs in a natural channel from Minworth to Cat Holme, near the National Memorial Arboretum. heading out when the sun was shining, I looped through Lichfield and Whittington as the rains came. At Elford, I surveyed the path of the recent flood, and the houses on The Beck – which are so attractive in summer -looked vulnerable. The old Elford bridge, however, looked as steadfast as ever. Following the river down through Tamhorn, I viewed it again from Hopwas, where it’s natural flood channel can be seen. That shallow berm is more than enough to protect the houses of the village, as to the eastern side, the plain is wide. It’s interesting to note anti-erosion work going on there. 

The waters look brown, angry and filthy, and they currently are. Undoubtedly contaminated with all manner of pollutants, including possibly sewage, it will take a few dry weeks to settle before returning to it’s  clear, glass-like self. 

There’s no avoiding the spirit of the water.

December 25th – On the way to Castle Ring, weak sunshine mingled with sharp showers. As I was stood looking down at the power station, the air cleared and the view improved. On the embankment near the wood on Holly Hill Lane, a tine waterfall has developed., confirming my feeling that the whole forest seems absolutely saturated. As I left, I noted the view towards the Black Country from opposite the Park Gate Inn; I never realise you could see Dudley Castle from here…

December 25th – The weather cheered up for the traditional Christmas day ride, which was unexpected and enjoyable. Heading out along the dam at Chasewater, I succumbed to my OCD about the water level and took a picture of the scale. It really isn’t far now until the water reaches the maximum level of the top of the weir in the spillway. I reckon it might just get there by new year. I last checked last Thursday, 20th December, when the water was at 44cm from the top of the middle metre scale. It now stands at 8cm from top – an increase in 5 days of 36cm, or 14 inches. I have never seen anything like this. Water is now lapping around the balcony shore, and to all intents and purposes, is now at pre-dam work levels. A remarkable thing and a great Christmas present for all wildlife enthusiasts who love this special place.

December 24th – I cycled over a very grey, silent Chasewater at dusk to Morrisons in Burntwood. The supermarket was very quiet for 4pm on Christmas Eve, and I felt quid sad and un-Christmassy. To cheer myself up, I cycled back through Chasetown. I like this odd little hillside village, and it’s steeply inclined High Street. They have quite a good Christmas tree this year, and in the damp darkness, the lights of the traffic and shopfront mingled to form a very festive scene. I felt much better, and cycled home damp, but full of festive spirit once more.

Merry Christmas, everyone! 

December 24th – I reckon, if this weather continues, there won’t be any smokers left in the UK by the end of January. Everything in the country will just be too soggy to light….

I don’t think I’ve ever known such a wet Christmas break. Disappointing, as I wanted to get up to Derbyshire, or maybe just around Staffordshire, but largely I’m confined to utility rides around home at the moment. It was on such a ride today that I noted the canal  overflow at Brownhills had swamped it’s culvert again. That’s the second time in two months, and as a consequence, the low area of Clayhanger Common is starting to flood. This area, if the wet weather continues, will be several feet deep in a day or so, but it’s doing exactly what it was designed to do, and protecting Clayhanger Village and the Ford Brook channel from flooding.

In years gone by, this would have flooded the village, but since the reclamation of the common and the creation of this flood bund, the village is protected giving residents there peace of mind and a good Christmas.

Next time you see someone from the Environment Agency, tip your hat.

December 23rd – The Christmas spirit has taken a while to arrive with me this year. Nothing unpleasant, but with the dismal weather and concentration of work it’s been difficult to focus. Spinning back home tonight to Brownhills from Cannock Chase, I spotted this boat at Catshill in Brownhills. I love it and it made for a very unexpected breath of festive cheer…

December 23rd – An evening return through Chasewater revealed, unsurprisingly, ever increasing water levels. I’m hoping the lake will be near full by new year, and by the state of the forecast, that looks distinctly possible. At the moment, I’m most interested in the waterline around the pier. After so long high and dry, I’m wondering how being soaked again in the water is affecting the structure, with let’s face it, was knackered a long time ago. I can’t figure out why it hasn’t actually been removed…

Hi Bob and Merry Christmas to you! I’d enjoy the time off but the whole family has this cold and cough thats going around! I saw your post about the camera, I was looking to get a better one but decided to wait till this basic samsung got dropped/fell into a stream. I can’t believe how much I enjoy taking pics when I am out working/running/walking. I was hoping for better weather to get out and about , I may delve into the archives for snow pics from last year. All the best Mike

Merry Christmas old chap.

Sorry to hear about the colds. Hopefully, they’ll wear off as Christmas gets underway.

I can’t recommend the Panasonic highly enough. The drop that smashed it was really bad (it bounced down steps), but generally, they’ll survive the worst treatment without missing a beat.

Taking pictures the way we do is lovely. It makes you constantly look at your surroundings in a different way; you’re not just looking for a good photo, but for something interesting. It makes you study your environment far more closely than I think one would otherwise.

I think the weather looks like improving steadily now, which is good news for post-Christmas walks and rides.

I’m looking forward to a bit of snow, too.

Best wishes, have a great Christmas and a happy new year. I love your photography, it’s beautiful.

Cheers

Bob

December 22nd – The rain was evil on my return through Lower Stonnall, aided and abetted by a low but sharp wind. As I came back down Gravelly Lane, I stopped to look at Ivy Cottage in the dusk. Ivy Cottage is a landmark for me: it stands at an oblique, curious angle to junction, and it’s lights indicate that I’m nearly home, and have to turn right. It’s a lovely cottage, and looks best in spring. I know the seasons are advancing by this cottage, and the degree of night-time when I pass it on my return from work. Yesterday was the shortest day and winter solstice, from now, for me, spring starts. This is not trivial. From here, everything opens out.

A reader of this journal remarked to me a few weeks ago that I sounded tired in my posts. It’s not tiredness as such, it’s fatigue; the attrition of the dark and bad weather, and the knowledge that worse was to come. For an outdoors person, the nights closing in seems calamitous, inevitable, and depressing. I feel it acutely. From now, slowly, almost imperceptibly, daylight extends. It will creep gradually into my journeys, and in a few weeks, rather than the death and retreat I’ve seen since summer passed, life will return and nature will awaken. I know there’s bad weather to come, but having seen the shortest day, I can now face anything. 

I can understand why everyone from the Celts to the Romans and Christians had a midwinter celebration. They felt this point was a symbol of time’s passage. I concur. From here, the riding gets better and better. 

December 22nd – One of the essentials of the Christmas season is chocolate ginger. I can’t abide the stuff myself, but someone hereabouts is very fond of it indeed. The best chocolate ginger comes from the confectioner in Shenstone, so late afternoon, off in the rain I headed. It was very warm out, and it felt almost spring-like. The wind was heavy and drove the rain hard into my face on the way back. Shenstone always looks Christmassy at dusk. There’s something about the closeness of the houses, and the way the street light falls that make this place redolent of a bucolic Christmas card. I noted the Plough pub still boarded up, but the Railway, opposite, and the Fox and Hounds up the road still seemed to be in rude heath.