September 30th – A grim and unphotogenic afternoon. I’ve been considering for a few days now, what makes the winter landscape so grim? Lack of greenery, muted colour? Or is the winter light different? As I looked out from Clayhanger Bridge on a previously beautiful view – lush and verdant in summer – I realised the landscape was still green, really. Still lush. But the light that was now dying, wasn’t kind. It was grey and unsupportive of colour. Rather than enhancing nature, it seemed to be muting it. Perhaps that’s the key.

September 30th – A grim, wet and windy day. I went out about 6pm, and enjoyed a spin round a dark and deserted Brownhills. It felt very wintery, but the wet roads sang under my wheels and the unusual solitude on the streets was welcome. In Coppice Lane, Brownhills, I noted the scumbags have been flytipping again; 2 complete leather sofas and at the top, garden waste.

If you pay people to do jobs like gardening or rubbish removal on the cheap, you’re contributing to this problem. It costs everyone money, as our council tax has to pay for the cleanup.

The animals that do this are arseholes. No more, no less.

September 29th – It’s finally happened. We’ve had so much rain in recent months, the Chasewater has refilled to an unthought of degree. Now, the water level is registering on the scale on the pier; just 20 days ago it was well below it. The scale starts at 148.35m AOD, having risen from it’s low point of 143.7m AOD last September. A huge gain, nobody thought this was really possible. 

Mind you, the price of this restoration has been a bloody awful summer…

September 28th – Finally, when I got home, I got some cycling in. I had to nip down to Stonnall in the early evening, and as the dusk fell, I realised I hadn’t got my gorilla pod – the adaptable camera mount I use for night shots. Since I don’t have steady hands, I had to rely on my fallback night photography trick – standing the camera on street furniture and fences, and setting it on self timer. 

The results were’t too bad.

September 28th – By chance, on my return journey. I came upon this group of cyclists in Birmingham city centre. From twitter conversations, I realised they were a bunch of Birmingham City Councillors, who were on a guided ride of the city to experience what it’s like for cyclists. Interestingly, there were no Tories present.

It’s bloody lousy, we’ve been telling you for years, damn it…

September 28th – Other people’s bicycles. I’d been to the Cycle Show at the NEC. This involved a journey into Birmingham by bus – I hadn’t been on one for over 12 months, and hated it. Walking up Corporation Street from the University, I noticed this bike chained to the scaffolding. It’s a venerable old British Eagle, and someone loves it. Later, as I was leaving the show, I noticed this black fixie parked outside the entrance at the NEC. Sometimes the best bikes are the oldest, most loved ones.

September 27th – As I returned along the canal, something remarkable happened. A rainbow formed. In the distance over Hammerwich from the canal, the sky went from blue, to dark, to blue again, and then moved to form the most incredibly vivid rainbow. It lasted about ten minutes, long enough for me to wonder if there really was a pot of gold at Meerash Farm, but then, as quickly as it formed, it dissipated. It left one cyclist transfixed. Remarkably, all this occurred with no rain where I was. Sometimes, you’re just in the right place at the right time, and today, this was the case. I was privileged to see this. Nature, reminding us that it holds all the cards and will perform when she’s ready.

Perhaps autumn isn’t so bad after all.

September 27th – I’d been in Darlaston and escaped early. The skies were incredible late afternoon, and so I headed up to Chasewater, where I knew they’d be spectacular. I wasn’t wrong – they threatened a real storm, which never came. But in-between the rage-purple and black clouds, there were patches of azure blue. Photogenic weather, this is more like it.

September 26th – The poor weather continues. On my way to work, despite expecting a dry run, it rained; and also, on my return. I got the train to Lichfield, and did some shopping on my way back. The evening alternated between a searching, oddly penetrative drizzle and bright skies with a little hazy sunshine. Crossing Summerhill on the A461 Lichfield Road, I noticed the sunset was stunning. Lets have more of this, and less of the rain, please. Come on, weather, you’ve made your point…