June 3rd – The weather was atrocious today. It rained solidly for most of the day. Finally hauling myself out in heavy waterproofs late evening, I took a spin round Brownhills and noticed that Laburnum Cottage was now empty. This building, stood prominently on the junction of New Road and High Street, was built in 1871 and has served a variety of purposes, it’s last being as a print shop, which it had been for at least three decades. The long lost – and much missed – local free sheet, ‘The Brownhills Gazette’ was produced here in the late 80s and early 90s by Brian Stringer. 
I note now that the building is empty, with all signage and even the advertising hoarding on the side removed. There’s no planning applications outstanding, so it’s fate remains a mystery. At 141 years old, I hope the building is accorded the respect it deserves in any future use. 

Jun 2nd – On the way to Chasewater, I spotted this fine cargo boat heading for Anglesey basin. It was a very unusual craft, and I wonder as to it’s history. I regret now not asking the chaps on board about it – but I was so surprised to see such a huge narrowboat that I just took pictures, awestruck. I love how the front end, unladen, seems almost proud of the water. I guess there was a time when these types of freighter were an everyday sight here, plying their trade from wharf to wharf transferring coal, clay or other essential goods to drive the industrial heartlands. A fine thing, to be sure.

June 2nd – Spotted this interesting family on the canal near the Canoe and Outdoor Centre in Brownhills. I’m interested in what’s going on here. One pair of canada geese, Eight goslings, perfectly normal. Except five of the brood are clearly a week or two older than the other 3. Do geese have reciprocal childcare arrangements? Fostering, perhaps?

Any ideas?

June 1st – In total contrast to my dismay at the arboreal destruction in Stonnall, the roadside verges on the Lichfield Road at Sandhills are, like just about everywhere else at the moment, a delight. A riot of colour and wildflowers, just as one species finishes flowering, it passes the colour baton to another in a delightful natural relay. All of these gorgeous examples were spotted in a hundred yard stretch between Lanes Farm and Shire Oak House.

The dead nettles are a particular delight – lovely to pluck a flower or two and suck the sweet nectar from it’s base. Worth checking they’re out of dog pee reach first, though…

June 1st – I see that Wordsley House in Stonnall has  now been sold, and this includes the barn and land.  The barn is now marked down – like most agricultural buildings in the area have been – for conversion into dwellings. It says much about the economics and demographic of this burgeoning Metroland that all the farming has now gone from the village. The transformation – from comfortable rural village to almost totally soulless commuter resort –  has been completed in the 30 years I’ve been riding through here, and I find it desperately sad. The only redeeming feature is the rolling countryside and greenery – although it is under threat too, as the lower image from Google Earth Streetview shows. In danger of losing the remainder of it’s greatest assets to overdevelopment, I fear for Stonnall’s future. Sad, destructive and tragic.

May 31st – My unexpected commuting grief did lead to an unexpected visit to the throbbing metropolis that is Walsall. It was quite fortuitous really; it meant the wind was at my back on the ride home, and also that I could check out the damage caused by yet another derelict building fire in the town the previous night.

The fire was in an abandoned, derelict former leather works smack bang in the middle of the Waterfront development area. Immediately adjacent to a new apartment block, the old factory has been derelict for a few years, and I guess this will lead to another hasty demolition and yet another rubberstamped planning application. I circled the former factory, and noticed something about this development area I’ve never noticed before – it’s very shabby, in reality. New blocks of housing, both new build and renovations, are punctuated by derelict, rotting hulks of workshops, dark and forbidding. The planning here has been lousy, and I wouldn’t fancy walking in this area at night. Who’d want to buy a new luxury apartment next to a derelict drugs den?

May 31st – A really bad commute home this evening. The train I was due to catch – the 16:08 from Telford to Brum – was running 30 minutes late. Then cancelled, which meant there wasn’t another train until 16:51. Then it reappeared on the system, and rolled up at about 16:40… to terminate short in Wolverhampton. Resigned to my fate, I changed onto the stopper train from Wolves to Walsall that stops at every anthill and lamp-post. I arrived in Walsall – this train itself late – at about 18:25. I should have been at home with my feet up by then, and I still had to cycle home.

Wolverhampton station is a barren, soulless place. Like the city itself, I’ve tried to love it, but can’t, sadly. Always seems way too harsh and way too neglected to me. It matched my mood perfectly.  

May 31st – At Telford, the Cycle-to-Work scheme has been a great success. This project of the previous administration, like most things, has been severely curtailed, but it’s still a decent deal. I used to be one of only a couple of cyclists here, but now, on this summer morning, there’s barely room for my bike in the shed, and they’re due to erect another. Each one of these bikes represents a car not taking part in Telford’s rush hour, which has to be good. Over various shifts, there must be 50 or so cyclists here now, and some pretty nice bikes of all varieties. I like to see this.

May 30th – There was something of the smug git about me when I arrived home. I sat on the train, watching the rain pound down on north Birmingham and Sutton. Station after station, wet commuters got on or off the train. Resigned to my fate, I hopped off at Shenstone, to find the rain had stopped. The sun was trying to come out. The sky was still threatening, so I sped home, enjoying the sun, and wondering if the spots I felt on my legs were road spray or rain starting again. Completely against the odds I arrived home dry and warm.

Life doesn’t usually reward me like this. Further down the line I’ll pay, I just know it…

May 30th – That false sense of security. Today, I headed to Telford in light, summer clothes. It was a lovely, sunny morning and the riding was good, but late into the afternoon, the skies darkened. Although the BBC internet forecast didn’t predict rain, it looked like we we in for a storm.

I cycled to the station at my normal time – and it started to rain as the train pulled out. When I arrived at New Street, the rain storm was torrential. Water issued up from platform drains and the overheads crackled ominously. I was going to get drowned. I started to root in the saddlebag to check for aqua pacs for my electronic gadgets…