February 27th – It was still bitingly cold, but the predicted heavy snows missed us, instead teasing me with light flurries at the same time as bright sunshine. The contrast was beautiful.
In Victoria Park in Darlaston, hungry pigeons flocked to me when I stopped, but it was so beautiful. Thankfully the roads were not too icy, but the cold and wind were unpleasant.
Worth it for the beauty, though.
February 23rd – The mist had mostly cleared, but it was still very cold, and once more I found myself cycling back from Shentstone to Stonnall is the curious, netherworld twilight that’s neither day nor night that you get at this time of year.
I the cold and against a pretty sharp wind, the lights of the cottages and houses I passed were like soothing beacons in the gloom.
Passing through lower Stonnall my mind wandered to how many barn conversions and adapted houses there are here now: When I was a kid, they were working farms.
Such change.
February 19th – Travelling to work on a grey, horrible morning I dived onto the canal at Walsall to see if there would be anything interesting to share. There was nothing, not even the rats at Scarborough Road bridge were performing today, and as I approached Bentley Bridge it felt very grey and oppressive.
I was, hoever, concerned about one thing: The whole way between where I got on the canal at Birchills Locks and where I left at Darlaston Green there was a skin of non-organic, white scum on the water.
I recognise most seasonal scums and this wasn’t one of those. I hope it’s not serious.
February 14th – What an awful day.I battled into Walsall against an evil headwind. I had a hospital appointment that took forever, and when I came out there was heavy rain.
I arrived at work soaked and grumpy.
The way home was just as rain-soaked, but at least the wind was assisting me.
Cycling at the moment is a real challenge. I can see spring. I can taste it. It’s in the light, the flowers, the landscape. But this bad weather seems endless.
I will of course hang in there. But my goodness, this is hard going.
February 12th – The miniature daffodils in Kings Hill Park are always early, and after the frost and snow of the previous night had meted away in the afternoon warmth, I popped to take a look.
The park’s spring flowers are really gearing up for a great display now and I was so pleased to see them.
Welcome back, my little yellow flashes of spring. Welcome back.
February 11th – Finally, a decent ride out. But not without challenges – I’d set out of a day with a punishing Westerly to visit a farmer’s market at Buzzards Valley near Middleton. The day was bright, skies blue and my back was warmed by the sun.
I enjoyed the market, then called at Middleton Hall to photograph the birds on the feeding station, and caught an unexpected rat on cleanup duties.
The day was steadily getting colder, and snow started to fall. Very small showers, but it was happening.
I battled up a muddy canal to Fazeley, then returned up the old A5 over Hints – where I scoffed at the GPS app’s forecast for almost continual snow. Then it started.
The ride home – against a bastard wind forged on Satan’s back step and with periodically heavy, driving snow – was a real challenge. But I was glad to be out and in my favourite countryside again, which really is showing signs of spring, as the wallflowers at Bodymoor Heath were keen to point out.
I’m really not into Wyatt’s Old School House painted terracotta pink though. Preferred it white.
A great, but exhausting ride. Real four seasons in one day stuff.
February 10th – An evening spin out turned out to be warmer than expected, but rain seemed to be threatening. The canal and towpaths were sodden, and the paths and roads glistened in the headlight.
The flats on the Watermead, next to Coopers Bridge look lovely in the dark, the lights reflecting beautifully in the water, as did those of Tesco, itself looking unexpectedly attractive.
Either that, or I’ve been hemmed in too long…
February 6th – There I was, welcoming spring, and it looks like we’re in the coldest week of the winter so far.
Riding back to Brownhills it was cold and snowing lightly. I stopped on Anchor Bridge to record it, but you could barely tell. I don’t think this snow will amount to much, and it looks like warming up for the weekend, but I need to watch out for black ice in the morning.
Oh joy.
February 4th – A bitterly cold day. I rode out to Hammerwich to check out a grave for an article on the blog. I came upon these fellows in the churchyard.
They are legion. They are spring.
A nice surprise.
February 3rd – A day without rain would be nice. So nice.
It rained all day, and I barely left the house; I had technical difficulties with some work equipment that kept me busy on a fool’s errand most of the afternoon, before it turned out the problem was not mine at all.
I got nothing done. I felt low and troubled and realised that although physically better, I’m still recovering and have the post-illness blues. I’m sure you know how it goes – you still have some climbing to do and the daily grind hasn’t stopped for you to hop back on and catch up.
I had to nip up Walsall Wood in the early evening on an errand. I got wet, it was cold and I felt every pedal stroke.
I know everything will improve, and I’ll slip back into the daily rhythm soon. But right now I feel spare and down.
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