January 6th – Meeting this fellow in Pier Street was a shock. Of course, I’m assuming it was a fellow, but this large puss had a very male disdain for my very existence and was clearly wishing I’d go away.
In the winter months it’s a joy to meet a cat out and about rather than curled up in the warmth and this one, despite the face, obliged me by tolerating it’s picture being taken.
I do hope we meet again on friendlier terms.
December 4th – Returning home, I had to visit a mate in Shire Oak, and on the way noted that the problems with pooling water at Anchor Bridge were bad again, after a fair few yeas of being trouble free.
I also noted that the Anchor pub was looking very welcoming these days, with a well-lit exterior that really makes it look warm, cosy and inviting.
No time today, sadly; maybe another day.
January 3rd – Returning to Brownhills, there was a lovely, low sun at lunchtime so I visited the row of trees that make for such great autumn pictures during the leaf fall.
It’s fair to say they look totally different undressed, but no less beautiful.
Every time I see these, I can’t help but remember the when I was a kid, I remember these saplings being planted.
Oh, how that makes me feel old…
January 3rd – I was being watched, and I had a feeling this particular ball of floof didn’t care much for me at all. In fact, it looked positively hostile.
I was heading up to Walsall Wood on an errand, and I saw him in a canalside garden at the back of Lindon Drive, just near Catshill Junction. On the far side of the canal, I was in what must have been forbidden territory to the cat, and I’ve often wondered what canal cats make of life on the bank they can rarely get to.
Make no mistake, this is a stunning puss with gorgeous eyes. Someone loves this fine feline dearly. I just think he wanted to end me.
Still, nice to see a cat in Winter. Bit of a rarity at the moment…
January 2nd – I’ll start this with a note about time, and the passing thereof; long time readers will know I started this journal on 1st April 2011after being egged on to do 30daysofbiking by ace cyclist and top Dutchperson Renee Van Baar. Sadly, I was very ill with food poisoning the following New Year, so never rode a bike on 31st December 2011, and 1st January 2012. But I carried on, and I never missed a day since. Every day from 2nd January 2012 I have got on a bike and ridden somewhere. From 100 mile plus rides in one day, to trundles to the shop, I have recorded my daily life as a cyclist, in all it’s ups and downs. That’s 6 years, or 2192 successive days (including 2 leap years), and about 55,000 miles.
I love keeping this journal, I love writing it, and finding the photos.
I welcome feedback. If you have something to say – that I should stop, continue or do something differently, please get in touch by commenting or mailing me – BrownhillsBob at Googlemail dot com.
I’ve done this to show that it’s possible to be normal, and on a bike. That a podgy, middle aged man who’s not a lycra fiend can ride to work, shops, for fun, to explore, keep healthy, be happy, enthusiastic, jaded, sad or depressed, and continue rolling down the road.
In the six years, I’ve had at least 10 different cameras to use, maybe more, actually. Some I’ve adored, some I hated. The Canon GX 7 Mark II I’m using at the moment is like Jekyl and Hyde. It was really good in the night shots of the last couple of journeys, but tonight’s attempt – a simple shot of Morris – it seemed to fudge a bit.
On the camera, the jury is still out.
I’ll need to ride and use it a bit more to find out…
January 1st – Something odd has happened and I haven’t really register why.
As I passed the canal overflow at CLayhanger Bridge in the darkness, I noticed it was very noisy indeed, and that the canal was really full and overtopping considerably.
I find this puzzling – we’ve had a fair bit of rain, but not that much, surely? Or have I missed it all?
When the overflow is running at full blast it’s a lovely noise and a fascinating thing, almost hypnotic to watch.
I just can’t see where all the water’s come from…
January 1st – Oh hi 2018, where did you spring from? Not yet back at work and sunset already past 4pm. You can stay, new year, you can stay.
Well, the Canon GX7 is a remarkable bit of kit if I’m honest. I’d been home all day with guests and family stuff to do, and nipped out in the evening on an errand. I found Brownhills and Clayhanger somnambulant, deserted and desolate. It had been raining. It was very windy. I was feeling, if I’m honest, low.
Then I got to playing with this camera. My goodness, I think I’m in love. Some familiar muses here, from the otherworldly portal of Silver Court and it’s ethereal cashpoint glow to the dystopian Ravens Court, I’m going to have some fun with this one. Oh yes.
Unexpected clarity on what could have been a really low evening.
December 30th – While ferreting around the canal and Clayhanger Common for a decent night shot (and failing to find anything at all) I noticed this lovely, sedate and peaceful waterside retreat: At the canalised behind the houses of Lindon View, a bench, table and light, right by the canal.
How lovely is that?
December 30th – I was in Brownhills at dusk again, sorting out questions for the annual quiz on my main blog, and also fiddling with a new camera I have on loan – a Panasonic TZ100. This is a one-inch sensor compact that I’ve been curious to try.
I haven’t read the manual; I popped in a card, charged it up and off I went. So far, it’s very much like the TZ90 but with less zoom and a more strident low-light response, which is warm and pleasant.
Hopefully, the weather will improve soon and I’ll be able to get out and try this, and the Canon GX7 Mark II I also have been loaned side by side.
I’m ready for a more flexible camera in low light. I wonder if these will be the answer?
December 29th – Winter is a normalisation process for me. I enter it, kicking and screaming and resistant, headlong into the darkness; I fight my way through the suck, the suck that is the autumn commute, and by the time I emerge blinking and dazed from Christmas, I’m sort of used to it.
I’ve got used to the absence of light – which is OK now as it’s returning; I’ve acclimatised to the cold; and I’ve learned once more to look for oddities and interesting images in low-light urbanity.
Silver Court in Brownhills does Architecture and Morality. Peter Saville has nothing to fear.
Meanwhile, I trundle towards new year still nursing a bad shoulder and dreaming of warmer days…
BrownhillsBob's #365daysofbiking 