Tag: Blake street

June 15th – I spent most of the day travelling before ending up back in Darlaston working late. I set out on yet another wet morning, in steady but warm rain, and it more or less continued until the last trip of the day, which was mercifully dry.

On one of my journeys, I noticed this bored, sad looking border collie who’d clearly have rather been out in the outdoors than stuck in a train. I loved his mismatched eyes. With the rain and murk restricting my riding, I know how the dog felt.

I don’t know where he was going, but I hope there was somewhere to run when he got there.

October 28th – Last commute by train for a while hopefully, and the morning wasn’t the wet one predicted – in fact, it was warm, and although damp from the previous night’s rain, it was a pleasant ride.

I stood and looked for my train, and noted a northbound one in the opposite direction. The trains haven’t been too bad of late and I remain fascinated by the exaggerated perspective and complexity of the lines, overhead wires and general machinery of the rail system.

Today wasn’t the worst weather, but it made me think about just how resilient these systems are – the engineering shouldn’t be underestimated.

January 28th – I narrowly missed the heavy rain on both commutes, on a miserable day of stress and meetings bracketed by railway stations. I was out early, and back late, but there was a familiar lightness creeping into the sky. I just wish it’d stop raining for a few days.

It’s not too much to ask, is it?

November 29th – I was out early, as the sun rose. I had to go to Telford, and the morning skies were great. It was a shame I was running to close to time to stop and take more pictures. I’d forgotten how wonderful a winter sunrise could be.

At the other end of the day, I returned to Shenstone on a very black, cold and damp night; the weather couldn’t make it’s mind up to be wet or dry. There was a keen breeze that teased me all the way home. 

Although it was Friday, the homeward journey was hard, and seemed to take ages. I’m slowly getting into winter mode, but it’s still tough.

May 7th – Ach, the sadness of things. This elderly bike – a GT – isn’t a bad steed, but is in poor condition. I noticed it this morning leaning forlornly against the bike racks at Blake Street station. The rear mechanism hanger had sheared, and something looks like it has smashed in the derailleur. The bike had clearly been abandoned for the train. Sad.

That ruined someone’s day, I bet.

March 27th – The winter is still sat upon my shoulders, weighing me down. Today was another day fraught with bad travel connections, and tomorrow doesn’t look to be much better. Waiting at Blake Street this morning, it was bitingly cold, and snowing. Rather than the enjoyment I normally feel when it snows, today, it was just bleak, more of the same. Due to a signal failure, it took me two and a half hours to get to Telford. The circumspect mood did not improve.

Returning from Shenstone later in the day, there seemed to have a been a substantial thaw during the day – many of the fields I passes looked green, whereas they’d been white the day before. However, the larger drifts will take some time to recede. This one – currently preventing any access to Thornyhurst Lane – is huge.

March 25th – It promised to be a thoroughly dreadful journey home. Checking travel information just before leaving work, there was chaos at New Street, with overhead line difficulties causing mass cancellations and a reduction to Sunday service on all lines I could get home from. Pitching up a the station, I went for a Walsall train, then heard an announcement for a Lichfield one. Just making it to the right platform, I easily climbed aboard a 6-carriage set which had seats to spare. I actually left New Street before I would normally. This was nice and rather odd. I was very, very lucky.

Alighting at Blake Street, I found the light to be fantastic and even the backlanes clear. The wind was still sculpting powdery snow into impressive drifts, and coming from the northeast, was a distinct and formidable crosswind. 

As Laura Marling says ‘I’ll never love England more than when it’s covered in snow.’