February 17th – Only a couple of photos today as the commute was horrid both ways – driving, squally rain. I was cheered however, by spotting this grumpy-looking sentry on duty at St. John’s Church in Pleck. I don’t think he lives there, but was certainly availing himself of the shelter to watch the world go by.
I clearly didn’t amuse him. But he’s a big lad and I suspect someone loves him very much.
February 8th – That all-pervasive sense of a world heading off home quickly was present in the Civic Quarter, too. Even the pub smokers, normally hanging around in small huddles here, were absent.
It just made the street scene here look beautiful.
February 7th – On my return, I cycled back down the canal into Brownhills. My favourite tree near Home Farm at Sandhills is handsome even when bare, and it doesn’t seem long now until I see it in leaf once more – but there seems to be a lot of bad weather to go through yet before those warm, sunny spring days return.
On the towpaths, the mud has to be seen to be believed, and at Anchor Bridge in particular, the rotting leaf litter her has made a slimy, hazardous goop which is hard and unpleasant to ride through – until things dry out a bit, take care!
February 6th – I had promised not to moan about the rain again. But come on, it was rain all day from the moment I awoke until late into the evening. That’s not good. And again, that evil, evil wind.
I got out around teatime and did a quick loop of the town. There is something enchanting about traffic, electric light and rain, but I think I’ve seen enough of it.
All I want right now is a dry, calm and sunny spring. It seems unlikely. But I can always hope…
February 4th – I came back to Brownhills late, and hopped on the canal from Walsall Wood. Leaving the towpath at the Anchor Bridge, I realised how odd the landscape is here. The canal, of course, remains level (473ft above mean sea level for the anoraks out there), yet the landscape rises above it gently, and the Chester Road crosses above with barely and undulation.
It made me wonder if the canal was channelled out here and what the landscape of the late 1700s looked like before it arrived.
The night was chilly and blustery and I was tired. I suddenly realised I’d been stood for five minutes or more in pitch darkness contemplating the physical geography here absent mindedly, whilst freezing cold.
Cycling catches you like that sometimes.
January 31st – Returning via Chasewater, the wind was building up and conditions were choppy. In many ways, the country park is at it’s best on days like this as you realise just how harsh such a wide open space can be.
I noted that the reservoir is about 150-180mm off full now (6-7 inches). This is interesting, as the reservoir hasn’t overtopped for a couple of years now, and it’ll be interesting to see if it’s allowed to again. One thing is for certain, though: the capacity used up by local brooks and natural drains filling up the reservoir has certainly relieved pressure on the Rivers Tame and Trent, which would have taken the burden had Chasewater overflowed – perhaps this demonstrates the sense of going into winter with a relatively low level.
The valves are currently still close and I watch with interest.
January 31st – It’s been a hard weekend. Technology hasn’t been working well, and I’ve not been well with a cold. Today I was better, but felt low, and the grey, inclement weather didn’t help. I decided I needed physical activity, so I turned the computer off and went in search of some colour.
Thankfully, I found it.
In St. Anne’s churchyard and cemetery opposite in Chasetown, spring has arrived due to the unseasonably warm weather. A single daffodil bobbed in the wind (such that my photos of it were nothing but a blur); easter primroses and calendula were bright and cheering.
Despite the terrible light and encroaching dusk, I think it can be seen that the usual carpet of purple and white crocuses in the cemetery is just coming into flower.
It’s the last day of January, and I’ve still to see a single solitary snowdrop.
The seasons in the last two years have been mad – I have no idea what’s going on. But thanks to them, my mood was lifted on a very dull last day in January.
January 26th – Ah, hello rain, you’re back.
Passing through Walsall to make a call on my commute home, the heavens opened. For what seemed like the thousandth time this year, I got wet. But the rain was warm and the wind was behind me, and it didn’t last too long.
However, I did catch it whilst in Park Street, in the town centre. Something about the light and surfaces combined. I though it was rather beautiful.
January 25th – There’s been a bit of a running debate lately amongst friends and family about just how much one should clean a bike in winter. I must admit, I’m from the ‘Only clean when the crud is ~25% of the total weight of the bike’ school, but others differ.
Visiting a client this afternoon, I checked out the bikes parked in their bike rack. This clearly well-used semi-hybrid has a fairly clean, well-lubed chain, but oh – the caked mud on that front mech is crossing a line.
That thing really needs some mudguards – all the mud from the back wheel that isn’t doing a skunk-strip on the rider’s jacket is being dumped on the chain and front mech.
January 17th – We had snow. Not much, maybe half an inch, and it was very, very wet. It was enough though, to be beautiful, and so I headed out into it as soon as I could. The light was pretty poor though, and the photography didn’t work out so well, but it was a nice experience apart from the endless mud.
Still, it’s better than the endless rain, and seeing the gorse flowers in the snow was lovely.
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