March 9th – Coming back to Brownhills on the wettest and greyest of evenings, I stopped to take a call at the top of Clayhanger Lane on Lindon Road. The traffic was terrible, it was cold and the rain was penetrating.
It seems a world away from the warmth of a few weeks ago.
Hopefully, spring won’t be far away – and we can at least, hope for warmer rain…
Have to say, if the road surface gets any worse on Lindon Road they’ll have to give up sweeping it and plough it instead.
March 6th – Chasewater is very nearly, almost but not quite full now. I reckon another week to ten days if we have a mild spell of rain.
The authorities seem to let the reservoir overflow once every year or so. Perhaps they’re stress-testing the dam.
March 5th – I met these two interesting characters whilst returning in the morning from a trip into Walsall on an errand. I had planned to go to the annual bike jumble at Eddington, but my health was still not great and the weather – windy, with periodic showers – was so damned unpleasant, I just couldn’t be doing with it. Which is sad, but we usually get a better day for it.
Tacking into the wind, I decided to try the cycleway down the Goscote Valley on the way back, which was a bit of a mistake. Nipping down Cartridge lane to join the cycleway, both the donkey and horse were stood by the fence, so I said hello. The donkey was grumpy and walked away, but the horse happily had his nose stroked and seems sad when I made to go.
That donkey is a lovely animal, but I don’t think it likes me very much!
March 4th – A horrid, horrid day: a very cold, icy commute to work, a bad day when I got there, and then caught in the rain without waterproof trousers on the way home. I got in cold, tired and soaking wet.
Walsall is hard to love in such bad weather. I was glad to be going home.
March 2nd – Two very poor photos of Walsall Wood in a downpour. I was late back from work. It had rained most of the way home. It was cold, and the wind was brutal. I was dry under the waterproofs, though, and I just made a place I had to visit on the way back, so it wasn’t all bad.
Walsall Wood has a sort of soft, beautiful quality in the rain of a dark night. Villagey, yet urban. Energy and motion in the traffic, unstoppable, relentless, with somewhere to be, that isn’t here; yet it’s contrasted with the static streetlights, shop and pub glow and the son sheen of wet tarmac.
I’d rather be at home. I’m still troubled by low energy, short breath and sinus hassle, but that’s improving; but the night was hostile and I’d rather be in the warm and dry.
So I ploughed home.
March 2nd – That old British adage ‘If you don’t like the weather, wait ten minutes’ was never truer than today. I’d nipped out of work into Moxley on an errand, and the heavens opened – not with rain, as it had been periodically most of the morning, but huge, huge snowflakes.
I wanted to enjoy it. Riding was impossible as it was blinding. It was also rather wet. I took refuge in a cafe, ordered a brew and something to eat, and sat by the window until it cleared, just watching the snow fall.
Within 90 minutes or so, there was no trace it had even snowed. I wouldn’t have missed that for the world. There’s something very loose, transitory and impermanent about the weather of late. Not sure I like it much.
February 29th – On the return, I felt leaden. Clearly still not recovered, my stamina was non-existent and riding was hard, painful work. This cold has really got into my bones and joints and I ache.
Rounding the bend on the canal by Barrow Close in Walsall Wood I noted it was past 6pm and still not really dark, but the lights of the houses looked welcoming and warm in the half-light.
They made me want to be home and warm, and out of the cold and exertion – so I remounted and undertook the final slog home with grim, but renewed determination.
This cold can sod off.
February 27th – A grey, murky day with little merit, which was OK really as I was so unwell I could barely make it out until late afternoon. I potter in the usual canal loop from Pier Street up to Wharf Lane and back down the Parade. I barely saw a soul. It was very cold, and the light terrible.
I’m so unused to typical February weather this year, when it happens, it’s an unpleasant shock…
February 21st – Another grim, grey and periodically wet day that had started reasonably well, but by the time I was able to escape, had descended into grey intemperance. I headed out to Chasewater and found the water level still rising, but the place was largely deserted and the lake very choppy indeed. This place was hostile today.
The only bright thing here was the gorse, which is strongly in flower all around the park. Such vivid, bright yellow. A real joy.
February 20th – A foul, grey and wet day hemmed me in and I only left the house to get some shopping in. While out, I looped up the canal and back to town; it was dark, desolate and windy and I found the experience particularly joyless.
I did find cheer, however, in the bike on the back of the narrowboat moored at Siler Street, which seemed made to measure to fit in place, and for the waterside grotto at the back of the houses on Lindon Drive which seemed like the ideal place to chill out on a more temperate evening.
A lot of thought has clearly gone into that little sanctuary.
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