February 17th – Darlaston, again. What a difference a day made. Spring was in the air, the sun on my face and warmth in my heart.
Shame about the trees in front of St. Lawrence’s Church. They make it impossible to get a decent angle on one of the finest churches hereabouts.
February 10th – A little way down the High Street, the pleasant church of St. John, another part of Walsall Wood that looks good lit up in the dark. I’ve always liked the elegant lines of the tower and church, before the hideous modern extension was added. This was a simple, understated design that has been utterly bastardised by the cruel abuse of the architects, who completely failed to understand the beauty of this church, as they did so many in the diocese sullied by their handiwork.
January 25th – This had turned into Lloyd Cole’s lost weekend. Little was going right and I’d spent hours trying to battle with technology, and achieved little.
I escaped in the evening, into a desolate, somnambulant Brownhills, and cruised around the town centre happily lost in my search for a picture.
Sometimes, it’s good just to put the stuff down, get on the bike, start pedalling and stop thinking.
January 10th – Over to Burntwood to get some shopping in, I went via the canal and Chasewater. Just at Home Farm, where Brawn’s Wood used to be, I noted a new gap in the hedgerow, stomped down. It didn’t look man-made, and there’s no beneficial human shortcut I can see here; but earlier in the week I noted deer footprints coming off Clayhanger Common near Catshill Junction Bridge and I thing they’re probably coming this way now and on to the fields at Springhill and Sandhills.
Further on, on this clear, hard and windy day, Hammerwich and beyond to Lichfield Cathedral were very visible and made interesting zoom photos.
How I adore that view, and this stretch of canal.
January 4th – I’ll be perfectly honest here – I felt lower than a snake’s knees; the black dog was truly upon me and I’d been trying to ignore it for days. I’ve no idea why, other than stuff just wasn’t going well generally, but I did what I always do when life gets the better of me: I got out my cyclic antidepressant and rode it hard.
I rode over to Farewell on a journey that started sunny, but ended dank and misty, but it was enjoyable. Although cold, there were signs of life and colour in Farewell churchyard that pleased and encouraged me; and the winding icy lanes were a challenge.
The old holloway of Cross o’ th’ Hand Lane was as dramatic as ever.
Coming back through Wall, the church and Roman remains were excellent stopping points as ever. My mood wasn’t completely lifted, but I felt a lot better.
January 3rd – Ah, that prickly, uncomfortable time between New Year and starting work again. Once you get back to the grind, Christmas seems a long way off and life gets back to normal quickly, but in the interregnum between festivity and workaday occupation, things feel otherworldly and disconnected. I hate it.
The nights are opening out though, which is good; the weather hasn’t been great, particularly that morning, and I can’t seem to get anything done, which is a pain, but everything must pass.
I spun into town for a few items and some fresh air, and swung past St James, the parish church of Brownhills. I’ve always found it stark and austere, and the extension added in the early 90s (in the foreground) is, to me, hideous. But the church is the heart of Brownhills, or at least Ogley Hay, even if most of the surrounding community seemed to be Methodist.
The sky was a deep, azure blue and the moon was nearing full. It was quiet. Not a bad night to be out, but my heart was elsewhere.
I’ll feel better when I’m back at work.
Boxing Day – Out for a quick spin before the rains came in, and I headed to Stonnall Church, as I’d not been there for ages. It’s a lovely little church, mostly brick but with a stone extension on the rear. It looks such a homely little church, and the grounds surrounding it are full of curiosities – from the views of the surrounding village and hills to the sad, headstone-less grave under the hedge at the back. There’s a curious little war memorial made out of nails, and some of the most fascinating weather erosion I’ve ever seen.
Yet you could pass this church – high on the hill beside the road – and never notice it were there.
December 21st – I was spinning up to Walsall Wood to make a quick delivery, and I realised there was a carol concert happening at St. John’s church, and it was lit up.
It looked and sounded very Christmassy.
Sadly, I don’t think I’ll ever be able to get a decent night shot of this humble but handsome church without that bloody streetlight spoiling it. Just can’t get a good angle.
November 29th – Feeling better, we headed up Church Hill for a spot of atmospheric stuff. Taking photos in a solitary fashion everyday makes the process mundane; I’d forgotten the joy and mischief of working with someone else. And up on Church Hill at night, you really need someone else for security. It’s bloody dark.
Yes, there is a Late Night Feelings thing going on – well spotted. That’s for Pedro Cutler.
Go on, I dare you, tell me this place isn’t beautiful;. Just try it.
Eager to see the results, we got on our bikes, and rode home.
August 7th – I had to nip into Brum on my way home from work, and hopped on a train to Shenstone on the way back. I haven’t been this way much lately, and the familiar wooded hill with church tower – just the one in summer, the other being obscured by trees – looked splendid in the early evening sunshine. I love how you can see the gargoyles at the vertices from a very long way away.
The station and it’s complex, partially mansard roof is still gorgeous, too, despite being neutered of it’s tall, elegant chimneys several decades ago.
Shenstone is gorgeous, and there are few better places to be on a warm, sunny evening.
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