January 14th – On the lookout for a little duck, maybe, or anything small and squeaky in the dusk, canal side cat at the appropriately named Catshill Junction was watching, and waiting, and distinctly irritated by my attention.
That’s a lovely puss, though.
January 14th – We’ve had some foreign visitors in Brownhills. They’ve come before, in other winters when it’s been cold on the continent, and they’re here again. It’s good to seem these somewhat rare, colourful fellows.
Waxwings have come to strip the trees by Silver Court of berries before – working their way west from Eastern Europe, when their traditional feeding grounds aren’t bountiful they venture further afield.
I don’t know if they remember Brownhills somehow, or it’s just chance, but the businesses in Brownhills are getting added trade from twitchers and it’s giving the town something to talk about.
I just adore these birds. Such pretty things.
January 13th – To my further disappointment, when I left work, there was no snow left to speak of, and it was almost warm, but very wet, although not raining. I don’t mind admitting I really love cycling in dramatically cold conditions, and I felt a tiny bit cheated.
But as I rode back down Green Lane and over the Black Cock Bridge, they sky was clearing and a full, mist-shrouded moon hung there. It was impossible not to feel cheered by it.
January 13th – I was hoping for more snow. I was mentally prepared for a very cold, icy commute. I awoke to little more than an icing-sugar dusting, and all the main roads clear.
I was interested to note though that other cyclists weren’t deterred. I had the snow tyres on and loved it, but the cycleways and towpaths were lined by tyre tracks, so maybe I’m getting risk-averse in my old age.
A nice journey in cold weather, but it’d be nice to have the real thing before winter ends. A bit of 2013 wouldn’t hurt, would it?
January 12th – Passing throughGreat Bridge in the last of the light, the weather was grim and the traffic horrid – the promised snow had also passed through and the only trace of it was overlooking the Black Country from Turner’s Hill.
For a moment, snow on the hill – no more than an icing-sugar dusting – was beautiful.
I hope we get some more.
January 12th – The renovation and conversion of Kings Hill Methodist Chapel, and sometime St. Thomas’ Church in Kings Hill, Darlaston has been protracted, but very impressive. This is no bodge job and has literally taken years.
When I passed today, the boards were off the windows, the brickwork at the rear had been finished, as had the doors and paving to the front. The stained glass front windows also seem to have been repaired.
I don’t know who’s paid for and planned this job, but it truly is very impressive and I’d be happy to live in such a beautifully converted building.
January 11th – The spring flowers know. They’ve started. Jack in the Green has tapped the ground with his cane, and they’ve started to grow.
Soon, folks: soon. The flowers know.
January 11th – Another rare daylight commute, so again I took the canal into Darlaston. On my way I became aware of a series of yellow marker paint spots on the towpath, and it took me a little while to work them out.
The canal towpath here is to be resurfaced soon, and disturbed soil in places pointed up the fact that someone had been surveying. Markers near the bridges indicate a gas main runs alongside the canal here, and the spots indicate the position of the pipes. At the old arm crossover near Haniel, the pipes emerge and cross the disused inlet, and one can observe the spots follow it’s course.
This part of the towpath would benefit a little from resurfacing, but it’s nowhere near as bad as the stretches through Aldridge and Pelsall. The resurfacing policy is absolutely baffling.
January 10th – It seems the old Oak Park is finally coming down – after a sizeable fire in the derelict building last week, the council have at last acted decisively and it seems we will soon be rid of the old building and the antisocial behaviour it’s encouraging.
Built in 1974, it’s a bland, post Brutalist structure in pale block, but like many, I have memories here, and although we have a great new centre not 100 yards away, the change is tinged with just a little sadness.
It’ll be interesting to watch the building come down.
January 10th – Sadly, my commuting life right now isn’t terribly varied. I’m seeing a lot of dark urbanity, stations, later and earlier. Apologies. Finding variance in a busy January when you don’t see much daylight is always hard.
Passing through Birmingham New Streetin the evening, I found myself at the same platform as the steel horse sculpture that forms the first in a chain of 12 along the line side to Wolverhampton.
Erected in 1987 and designed by Kevin Atherton, the Iron Horse project put similar horses in different motion positions alongside an urban railway line, to appear as if the train you were on was losing a race with a horse. Some jump, some buck, canter or trot. They are warm, lifelike, and softly amusing.
They have fared well and not dated, and are one of the great curiosities of Birmingham and the Black Country.
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