Tag: canal

December 1st – It was still very cold on Friday evening, and again taking the canal to Walsall Wood – this time from Aldridge – I was reminded of the perils of black ice. Hitting this frozen puddle at speed, in the dark? I didn’t take a spill, but I did feel the back wheel slip.

Ever year there’s a little warning to be more sensible.

Take care if you’re out when it’s frosty, folks…

November 30th – Heading home that evening I hit the canal at the Black Cock Bridge and rode into Brownhills in peaceful, cold darkness.

I stopped to have a go at one of my favourite muses – Clayhanger Bridge by night – and by removing the bike light, putting it on full and shining round, I don’t think I got a bad pic. 

That’s ice on the canal, by the way.

November 24th – Returning to Brownhills after a long day at work, ice was forming on the towpath puddles and it felt like the hard, dry cold of winter was setting in. But it was very clear and there was a lovely moon to boot. 

I had a saddlebag full of fish and chips for tea for me and those at home, and it felt, despite the cold, like a decent night.

First time I’ve had me tail up for weeks, as my father might have said.

November 20th – I’ve seen herons do many odd things in my time cycling the canals. They are distinctly eccentric birds, who clearly operate to their own rules and desires.

But I’ve never had one so determinedly turn it’s back on me before. It is absolutely, unquestionably giving me the shoulder.

I presume it’s annoyed because I disturbed a fishing session.

Well, pardon me, fishbreath…

November 20th – The last shreds of daylight, heading between Tipton and Moxley on the canal in an overcast, damp Black Country late autumn Monday. You’d think this would be depressing, but it wasn’t; despite the awful light, the drizzle and relentless oncoming darkness, fallen leaves dappled the canal. Peace reigned. There was colour fighting through the gloom. And what else?

Peace and quiet.

This’ll do. It’s not exactly winning, but it’s definitely breaking even.

November 11th – I wasn’t well following the procedure I’d had in the week, as I’d  neglected my medication, so I took a short spin out for some air after dark.

It was a good chance to try long exposure photography, and the results weren’t too bad. But my heart wasn’t in it: I was cold, tired, fed up, and returned home with a heavy heart.

November 7th – I made a terrible decision to nip out mid morning on an call to the Solicitor. While I was there, the rain started, and returning to Darlaston in very heavy rain, I slipped onto the canal for respite from the traffic.

I sheltered under a bridge for a while, listening to the music of the rain on water, before realising the futility of it, cried Geronimo! And dashed for work, scattering the otherwise contented geese in my wake.

‘Did the big girls push you in the cut again, Bob?’ was the piss-taking call that greeted me on my return, drenched…

November 6th – One of those cursed days when you don’t forget the camera, but you forget to put the card in, so it’s useless. Having to make do with the phone, I nipped into Walsall lunchtime from work in Darlaston, and on my way back, caught this remarkable shaft of sunlight on the canal near Bridgman Street.

It was a misty, soft sunlight day – presumably the remains of the firework-frenzy fug – and maybe that was what created it, but it was beautiful. 

Just a shame I didn’t have a better camera to catch it with.

October 30th – Not a bad day for a Monday. I had to nip to a hospital appointment at lunchtime, so left work and cycled along a sun-dappled, peaceful canal to the centre of Walsall. Turning to leave the canal and ride on to Bridgman Street, I looked at the Town Arm Junction.

This place has changed beyond recognition in my lifetime. When I was a nipper it was grimy, surrounded by blackened, semi derelict factories; there was little wildlife and the waters were nothing more than a polluted stew.

Not all change is for the worse.