December 8th – As I approached the supermarket at Burntwood, there was a sadly short but very enjoyable whiteout. The snow was heavy, fast and think, and all of a sudden, my ride was transformed from a normal shopping errand into an adventure.
The snow stopped pretty quickly, but left a decent enough cover that made a familiar night-time view at Anglesey Basin beautiful and gave e an interesting and challenging ride back to Brownhills.
December 8th – The forecast had been for heavy snow during the day, and whilst it had been cold, the anticipated white stuff only presented a dusting by the time I headed over to Burntwood as night fell. I was quite disappointed if I’m honest, but I headed out into an impressively blue night to try the snow tyres for the first really icy outing of the year.
They were, as always, excellent, as were the views on the way, which made the ride much better than expected.
And then, something quite unexpected happened…
December 5th – A very dark, grey and overcast day without anything really to commend it.
And then, just when you think there’s no beauty, these little fellows on a roadside verge, clearly oblivious to the season.
I think they were there specifically to cheer me up…
December 3rd – A quick, snatched photo taken while on an errand to the shops, my only bike ride of the day. It was much, much warmer, and quick damp: The sorry of oily, greasy, muddy day that leaves everything filthy and wet without raining properly. It was dismal.
At the moment I’m up to my ears in financial stuff for work, as I am at this time every year, but this year it’s worse as we’ve been busier and there’s lots more of it.
I slid out as darkness fell, and took some photos around the Pier Street footbridge that I though would be good. They are all grainy, out of focus mush.
Which could equally describe my brain right now, too… still, soon be over.
December 2nd – Again passing through the Wood, this time to Screwfix, it was a grim, miserable, drizzly dank day – but at least it was much, much warmer than in previous days.
The ice was melting, and some of the less religiously inclined types were relishing their fast diminishing ability to walk on water…
November 20th – The last shreds of daylight, heading between Tipton and Moxley on the canal in an overcast, damp Black Country late autumn Monday. You’d think this would be depressing, but it wasn’t; despite the awful light, the drizzle and relentless oncoming darkness, fallen leaves dappled the canal. Peace reigned. There was colour fighting through the gloom. And what else?
Peace and quiet.
This’ll do. It’s not exactly winning, but it’s definitely breaking even.
November 7th – Long, long before the wonderful John Cooper Clarke was a sort of cult national treasure doing voice overs for oven chip adverts, he observed the everyday diesel spill on wet tarmac and made it chilling.
‘Revenge is not enough
There’s a dead canary on a swivel seat
There’s a rainbow in the road
Meanwhile on Beasley Street
Silence is the code’
I find easy, cheesy, greasy, queasy, beastly Beasley Street still chilling and an absolute classic, and after hearing it 30 odd years ago, I never looked at the urban terrace street in the same way again – including oil slicks flowing down the Darlaston Road and catching the light.
John Cooper Clark is one of the best performance poets Britain has ever had.
November 7th – I made a terrible decision to nip out mid morning on an call to the Solicitor. While I was there, the rain started, and returning to Darlaston in very heavy rain, I slipped onto the canal for respite from the traffic.
I sheltered under a bridge for a while, listening to the music of the rain on water, before realising the futility of it, cried Geronimo! And dashed for work, scattering the otherwise contented geese in my wake.
‘Did the big girls push you in the cut again, Bob?’ was the piss-taking call that greeted me on my return, drenched…
October 21st – A blustery, showery day, so I restricted myself to a short ride around the patch, washing through the leaves shaken free by the storm. At the new pond at Clayhanger, I noticed a healthy, beautiful holly bush with a dense crop of berries growing in the marsh at the back of the pool. That’s a sign Christmas is coming, for sure.
Autumn has been strange this year. It’s like we fell out of summer with a bump and kept bouncing off winter with no transition…
October 19th – A day marked by a ludicrously early start and thoroughly wet, rain-sodden homeward darkness commute. The weather really isn’t being kind to me this week.
The riding wasn’t bad, really – they do say drowning is quite pleasurable once you stop fighting it, and I flowed like the rainwater through the streets from Darlaston with an occasionally startling crosswind. Reaching the town centre, I took a short cut past the civic centre. With nobody about and beautifully glistening surfaces, it made for a good night shot.
If the weather-gods are reading this, can I please have some dry, non-windy weather for a short while please? I’d be ever so grateful…
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