Tag: bad weather

October 16th – With the sun more or less returned to normal and a ferocious tailwind, I hammered back to Brownhills late afternoon for an appointment. Watching me from the far side of the canal near Silver Street, a familiar character who clearly doesn’t care for my sort much, but that’s a huge bruiser of a cat. A real character.

At the old market place by the Pier Street Bridge, I’m happy to see the housing development is using forward with footings already in for the first houses.

It’ll be so nice to see this place inhabited and alive again.

September 30th – A wet, miserable grey day when little went right and I really didn’t feel the love at all. I really needed to be out and get some air, but work was demanding and the conditions not conducive. I’m really missing that Indian summer I was hoping for.

In the early evening gloom with night descending, I popped out on some errands, and spun around Brownhills. In steady rain on the Pier Street bridge, I remembered how beautiful this place is in the darkness of even a wet, grey, loveless evening.

September 25th – Heading home on a grey day, there was little to inspire, but whilst admiring the colours in the scrub near the new pond in Clayhanger, wishing we had sunshine to set them afire, I noticed a cat there I’d not seen before, presumably a ways away from home. A lovely ginger tabby, it gave me one glance, then high tailed it back down the old rail line path.

Even the cats didn’t want to speak to me…

September 18th – It was grey and just after heavy rain when I returned to Brownhills. There traffic had been bad I I hit the canal through Central Brownhills. 

On the old cement works bridge, teases grow well every year, and this year there are a fine crop, looking as prehistoric and alien as ever.

These wonderful weeds go largely unnoticed, but they are fascinating. Taking their name from their utility for teasing out cloth and yarn, they now provide winter food for songbirds, particularly goldfinches.

September 17th – By the time I arrived at Shenstone 30 minutes later, the rain and skies had cleared and there was a beautiful violet sunset, which lit my muse of Shenstone Station beautifully in the dusk.

Riding back to Brownhills, I screeched to a half to avoid someone in the road – a full grown, large adult toad, who was healthy and obstinate in the way that gets so many of these unfortunate creatures run over by vehicles.

I pulled out a tissue, and despite his protestations and jet of defensive urine, popped him to safety in the grass verge.

I stop for toads, great sunsets and often for no apparent reason whatsoever…

September 17th – I left at lunchtime and headed to Wolverhampton, hopping on to the canal at Wednesfield, then heading to Tipton at Horseley Junction. I was going to Tipton Canal Festival, a do I’d heard great things about but never been to. 

Despite the periodic rain, there was bright sunshine too and it was indeed a great event – more on my main blog later in the week. From Tipton, I meandered on the old line into Birmingham via the Toll House Loop, past the M5 viaduct with it’s maze of fascinating scaffolding and derelict dignity of Chance Glassworks.

The cats stayed out until the rain came, and the weather worsened as I approached Birmingham. The peculiarly black, wet heron summed up the feeling of the waterfront at Gas Street perfectly. Is it common for herons to be so black?

By the time I reached Aston the light was failing, the pavers on the towpath were treacherously slippery and the rain was penetrating, so I hopped on a train to Shenstone.

A great ride, despite the weather, that reminded me of why I love Birmingham and the Black Country.

September 10th – A miserable, wet and grey day with high winds kept me hemmed in until late afternoon, when despite being caught by a couple of heavy squalls, the skies cleared and the sun came out for a while.

I contented myself with a loop of Brownhills and Chasewater and explored some things I’d been meaning to check out for a while, and it wasn’t a bad, but chilly and damp ride.

Some of the views – when the sun caught the spray and the rain sparkled in the light – were gorgeous.

It seems the Indian summer I was hoper for is not to be this year.

September 5th – A washout commute home, too. The traffic was murderous, I was tired and I wasn’t feeling the love. I took to the canals and cycleways, and wound my way back to sanctuary carefully and slowly.

In Goscote, I spotted a lovely apple tree, laden with rosy red fruit, glistening and dripping with fresh rain.

For a moment, I was spellbound by the sound and beauty.

Then I realised how wet I was, got back on the bike and rode home.

September 5th – I was lucky in the morning, my early commute just clipped the edge of the forecast rain, and I didn’t get wet, but when I nipped out mid day on an errant to Wednesbury, I was caught in a downpour.

The flowers in Brunswick Park seemed to enjoy it though. I most do more on Brunswick, it’s another beautiful urban oasis that’s often unappreciated.

Can we have summer back, please? Thanks.

September 3rd – The day was grim and overcast, and the weather horrid, and I was wiped out from the ride the day before. I confined myself to a short ride around Pelsall, Brownhills and Shelfield via the canal and old rail cycleway.

From the day before, in shirtsleeves getting a tan and sweating in the sun, to this: There was an unpleasant nip in the air, a serious wind and autumn touching the greenery in a way I find sad.

I do hope that wasn’t summer’s last breath…