Tag: bad day

June 27th – A hard day and an awful journey home for the last commute of the week. The trains were a mess and I came back from Four Oaks against a grinding headwind with little left in my reserve tanks. I was knackered.

Re-armed with the camera, I spied this field of high-quality, nicely ripening barley at the foot of Castle Hill. It’s a lovely crop, with plump, large grain and will make fine malt.

I love the satin sheen of an undulating crop of barley, as it bobs in the wind. It’s one of the great seasonal sights of the English countryside. 

June 23rd – Long, hard day at work on a gorgeous summer day; I only caught the beginning and end. The sky was a lovely blue this evening, and as I passed Little Aston church, I stopped to take a few shots over the meadow. That’s a remarkable spire on a very nice, underrated church.

Even better on a languid summer evening…

June 11th – An odd day, really. I went over to Leicester early afternoon on a short notice call, and ended up leaving there late afternoon. Like the muppet I am, I left my camera there, and ended up having to use the phone camera, which I hate.

Waiting for a return train at South Wigston, I spotted this moron. Sat with his legs dangling over the platform edge at a station that sees fast through traffic, he ignored anyone (including me) who remonstrated with him to get up.

A candidate for a Darwin Award if ever there was one.

March 25th – The commute to work had been wet and quite, quite horrid, but the wind was more or less favourable. The roads were greasy, the traffic was mad. It wasn’t a hugely enjoyable journey.

Later in the morning, I felt rather ill, and was resigning myself to getting a lift home if I didn’t feel better. Thankfully, sweet tea, a lie down and some food sorted me out, but on leaving work during a break in the rain, I just floored it and sped home as fast as I could. I just wanted to be back, safe and sound in the dry and warm.

I noticed in Green Lane near Jockey Meadows the mist was rising off the marsh, and everywhere was sodden again. This is one of the very few places in life I find intimidating in it’s desolation. I felt it this evening. I have no idea why it makes me feel like this. 

I took a photo, then pressed on homewards.

November 4th – Only one set of photos today, as my others went badly wrong, such was the theme of the day. A day of missed connections, late arrivals, things not working and bad chances. I got a puncture on the way to work, and cursed. I had a mechanical issue on the way home.

Still, it was a pleasant enough day weather-wise, and on my way I took the cycle path from Pelsall to Goscote. Pelsall looked great from the Mill Lane Bridge, as it always does this time of year, and the Goscote Valley was equally pastoral. I can think of far worse journeys to cycle.

Here’s a thing, though, if a shard of glass embeds itself in your tyre and pierces your innertube, why is it always coloured glass and not plain clear? Is coloured glass harder or something?