Tag: Bullings Heath

February 27th – What a difference a day made. Yesterday I was lamenting the grey, the cold and the murk. Today, it was grey in the morning, but as I came home – in the light – the sun shone softly and the sunset was terrific – so much so that I was contacted by friends who asked me if I saw it.

Sadly, as I was returning from Walsall at the time, I couldn’t get a good vista on it, but I managed to catch a little of it at Bullings Heath as it died to  darkness. 

A beautiful, beautiful evening that brought joy – and spring – to my soul. Just what I needed.

February 9th – A grim day. Grim all round, really; not feeling in the best of health, and the weather was overcast, wet and miserable. I’d had a thoroughly depressing couple of hours unsuccessfully fiddling with bikes, and had to nip up to Walsall  Wood. In such murky, unphotogenic conditions, it’s difficult to find subject matter, but as I got to Bullings Heath and the Black Cock Bridge, I thought how quant and villagey the area looked. It’s true that riding a bike can lift your mood. From a feeling of darkness and a depression that didn’t seem to want to go, I suddenly felt happier.

Bicyclic antidepressant: cycle one, twice a day.

February 3rd – Out at sunset again, and another good one. I had something to deliver up the Wood so headed up the canal. As I rounded the bend at Catshill Junction, the quality of the sky really stunned me. I followed it up along the canal looking for a good vantage point, and never really found one; there would have been some great views over Bullings Heath were they not impossible to get to due to the canal bank copse and barbed wire. As it was, I contented myself with the three bridges – Clayhanger, the Black Cock and Lathams Bridge, behind Barons Court.

You can’t beet a good winter sunset.

January 29th – The wind and rain drag on. The day started decent enough, but by midday, dissolved into a morass of squally showers and buffeting winds. With an eye to the wind direction, I got the train back to Walsall and let the wind blow me home, which it did wonderfully. Bullings Heath – the old name for the area around the Black Cock pub and bridge in Walsall Wood glistened in the drizzle, the light reflecting off the wet asphalt.

In a way, it was beautiful, but I wish the rain would stop for a while.

October 3rd – The mystery of the bean field is solved. As I cycled past this evening, the farmer was harvesting the crop of beans I considered last week to be lost. I’d been musing on exactly how they were harvested for a while, and it seems the technique is identical to how much local maize is harvested: the whole plant is mown off at about six inches above ground, then chopped into rough chunks by the machinery, where presumably, it’s loaded into a trailer. I’d assume the beans a therefore used as fodder.

That’s a very big machine. Impressive stuff, and a mystery no more.

October 2nd – The condition of the Black Cock Bridge in Walsall Wood seems to be deteriorating, but I’m not sure who’s responsible. This steep sided, notorious canal crossing is over a century old, and is made of brick and iron. The guard rails are wooden, and bolted on to angle-iron posts, which have now corroded away causing the guard rails to fall off. For a month or so now, someone has erected and re-erected orange webbing fencing to cover the hazard, but they’ve been so idle about the task that rather than cut the excess off, they rolled it up and stuffed the remainder in a gap. It regularly falls out and flaps in the road.
I hope someone, somewhere is planning a more permanent repair. 

September 19th – I wasn’t feeling lucky, but it seemed fortune was on my side. I came back to Walsall on the train, and rain ominously flecked the windows. Emerging into the light, the rain – which I was dreading, with no waterproofs – hadn’t reached Walsall. I raced home, the sky to the north east getting darker and darker. Arriving home dry, I was feeling rather smug… But as it happened, the threatening skies never delivered, so I was safe after all.

July 18th – Everything is all to cock. Normally in summer, you have sunny days, and dull, rainy days. This summer you get dull, rainy weeks and sunny hours. It was in one such sunny hour I found myself in on the way back from work. It wasn’t terribly warm, but the countryside around Jockey Meadows and Bullings Heath at Walsall Wood looked superb. We’d hat a lot of rain, and Green Lane had again flooded, prompting the usual displays of lousy driving. The still-wet greenery, however, made it all seem worthwhile.

Hopefully, the weather is now limbering up for one whole sunny morning…

November 12th – An exhilarating race along the dark canal footpath found me at The Black Cock bridge, overlooking the hamlet that was once known as Bullings Heath. Despite it’s isolated location, the Black Cock pub does a good trade and is a pleasant community local. I also think that this interestingly shaped pub looks great at night, particularly after rounding the bend on a dark, foreboding Green Lane.

July 9th – researching the latest post on the Black Cock Bridge subsidence mystery, my path inevitably wandered toward lunch in Pelsall. Coming back through High Heath, I spotted this lovely, ripening field of wheat on the corner of Green Lane and Mob Lane. I reflected as I cycled down Mob Lane that since I was going downhill toward the old Bullings Heath, High Heath was suitable named.

Funny how you only notice these things peripherally – and who would have thought such a beautiful sight were possible in such a post-indurtial place?