Tag: canal

#365daysofbiking Night falls:

October 29th – Travelling back home in the first of the end of British Summer Time commutes is always hard: I wasn’t late, but it was dark, and cold. I got passed by two gritters. Progress was slow. 

Winter is upon me.

This means rejigging the photography a bit, as it’s had to find subjects in darkness, so the activity tends to shift to morning, or during errands or trips in the daytime.

Oh well, it’s here. Let’s do this.

#365daysofbiking Stars on earth:

October 27th – A grey, very very low day where things again went horribly wrong. I’m not having much luck with weekends at the moment.

Riding back from a fools errand in Walsall Wood, on the canal between Catshill Junction and the Silver Street Bridge, I noticed that the colony of earthstar fungus that I thought last winter’s cold weather had killed off completely has actually survived with some decent examples.

Hopefully some decent weather might help the group recover and re-spore successfully to give them some better years in future.

A rare bright spot in a very grim, down day.

#365daysofbiking Falling in love:

October 24th – It’s hard not to love the Black Country right now. The canals are beautiful, the leaves are turning and there’s a slightly soft quality to the light which is truly gorgeous.

I’m hating the dark nights and mornings as usual, but when you catch the daylight it really is rather lovely.

#365daysofbiking Appreciating the damp:

October 15th – The rain of the last few days continued – a steady, irritating, invasive drizzle. It was a horrid wet and cold commute.

But like Friday, it redeemed itself – with fungi.

I found my first tiny, sodden Japanese Parasol of the season on the grass by the canal near the Bridgman Street bridge. This tiny, pleated toadstools don’t last twenty-four hours and there will be no trace of it tomorrow. A real fleeting beauty.

Darlaston’s earthstars were also looking good and apparently thriving in the wet.

I just wish I was…

#365daysofbiking Lost weekend:

October 14th – Sunday was again bad for most of the daylight hours, only improving during the late afternoon. The wind had again been strong, and continual rain again kept me in. I got things done though, and that in itself made me feel better.

Nipping out for the shopping I’d forgotten the day before, I noted the swan family by Pelsall Road where thriving, and they didn’t seem to mind the gloom.

I’m curious though, about Morris and his lights: They haven’t actually been on the last couple of days at least. I wonder if they’re broken? That’s sad if they are.

#365daysofbiking Into the black:

October 13th – A dreadful, wet and dull day during which I got absolutely none of the things done I wanted to. High winds and rain meant I was hemmed in and my mood deteriorated.

Slipping out purely from necessity in the evening to get shopping and a takeaway, I forgot half of what I needed and the takeaway I’d planned as a pick me up wasn’t available.

A somnambulant Brownhills, even at the early hour of 7pm didn’t help.

This autumn is mad. One minute it’s sun and shirtsleeves, the next it’s like a typhoon.

This does nothing for my mood.

#365daysofbiking Spot on:

October 12th – On the way to work in the season of the storm living up to it’s name: torrential, driving rain and a bastard of a headwind forged on satan’s back step.

I took the canal at my earliest opportunity to avoid the madness of the traffic, and as I passed the bank where the fly agaric normally grow in large numbers but has been barren so far this season, a glint of bright red caught my eye.

The size of a dinner plate, it must be the largest, most perfect specimen I’ve ever seen.

Despite the rain, there was brightness. There always is, if you keep an eye open for it.

365daysofbiking Ever falls the twilight:

October 6th – I returned to Brownhills in the overcast weather hinterland between night and what passed for day. It was damned grey and inside, I felt that way too. The onset of winter has me by the neck this year and I’m alternately OK with it and then quite down. I somehow feel I let summer slip away – I didn’t, I rode lots and saw lots and it just ended early, but I feel bereft.

From the Silver Street pedestrian bridge, I surveyed one of my classic winter views: Autumn is settling well here now, and the new houses with the nice line along the canal made an interesting match to the colour of the trees before them. There is life here now, lights in the new dwellings, and no longer does it feel desolate to stand here and be confronted with the place I love. 

This town is changing, like the season; slowly, imperceptibly if you’re not attuned to it, and I think for the better. Finally, the ghosts of the civic failure here are being exorcised, and there is evidence of a little hope, a little life, a little warmth.

Unlike the season, Brownhills is opening up. Perhaps this grey twilight is better than I thought.

365daysofbiking Buttered up:

October 5th – I said a good few weeks ago now that butter and eggs, or toadflax is one of the harbingers of summer’s end: When it comes into flower, you know the season is at an end.

Still going strong in early October, it’s one of the few things still in flower, resolutely brightening the canal towpaths, edgelands and hedgerows.

A beautiful, but sad flower.