July 11th – My return via Walsall for some shopping took me up through Yewtree, Delves, Highgate and over Church Hill. Rounding the corner on the cycleway, at the foot of the old, disused steps down to The Ditch (that’s the name of a place, honest), a fantastic display of flowers.
What a splendid ride for a Friday at the end of a very, very hard week.
June 23rd – Long, hard day at work on a gorgeous summer day; I only caught the beginning and end. The sky was a lovely blue this evening, and as I passed Little Aston church, I stopped to take a few shots over the meadow. That’s a remarkable spire on a very nice, underrated church.
Even better on a languid summer evening…
June 5th – A better day. There was warm sun and it was dry with a keen wind. I had to nip down to King’s Hill near Darlaston, and passed the derelict, abandoned Methodist Church. I haven’t been this way much of late, and since my last look at this architectural stunner, it has continued to decay gracefully. The building has been sold, and permission granted to convert it into apartments, but work has not commenced yet.
At least we’re not losing the building.
What fascinated me today was the way nature is reclaiming the place. When the Church still held it, although unused, volunteers used to tend the grounds. Now, it’s run wild, and a riot of begonias, roses and shrubs are taking over.
It’s sad and beautiful simultaneously.
April 19th – I was fiddling with a mechanical fault all day. I love my bikes, but the gears can be perplexing when not quite right. I spun out late to Chasewater, and unexpectedly bumped into a good friend while I was there, which brightened me up no end. On the way, I noticed the oilseed rape at Hammerwich was looking gorgeous. Still not quite peaked, it’s a lovely colour nonetheless, and I love how the tractor trails in the crop highlight the landscape contours.
As long as I live I’ll always love this changing, fascinating landscape.
March 29th – I left Lichfield and the madness of the crowds as soon as I could, and took a leisurely line through Beacon Park, past the brook and the willows, currently in bud. From there, I took Cross in Hand Lane to Farewaell, then hopped over to Burntwood and back home via Chasewater. A great afternoon in sandals and shirtsleeves, and some great spring sights in the hedgerows and fields, crowned by a stark but beautiful sunset.
Spring really is here now, and this was the last night of darkness until the end of October, a spring, summer and autumn away.
Opening out – I love it.
March 23rd – Out in the late afternoon to bright sunshine, but a fearsome wind. I had been planning to head to Hopwas Hays Wood, but the thought of the headwind on my return put me off. I headed north instead, over Gentleshaw Common, over Castle Ring, down into Stonepit Green and back around the eastern flank of the Chase through Upper Longdon, Farewell and Buntwood. The wind died as I was out, and although nippy towards sunset, it was a gorgeous ride. The CHase is still very muddy, though…
January 11th – Burntwood Church is lovely, although arguably, it’s not in Burntwood itself, but Fulfen. Built in 1819 by Joseph Potter of Lichfield, it’s a very square, squat design in very red red brick. It’s in a lovely spot, overlooking open countryside, and within sight of the thatched Fulfen Cottage.
Also nearby in the centre of the road junction Christ Church overlooks, Princes Park, said to be the smallest park in the world.
Burntwood is a place it’s easy to pass through without looking. But stopping and taking time to see the place really rewards the inquisitive.
January 5th – It was a thoroughly horrid afternoon. Windy, wet, dark. I went out with a heavy heart, and didn’t find much of interest in the immediate area, so I spun out to Shenstone down the very wet and muddy backlanes.
Visiting the church, I was again reminded what a gothic, ugly edifice it is. I’ve never liked it; it’s a perfectly competent architectural design, it’s just not to my taste. I find the dark grey sandstone, and heavy Victoriana dismal. Even the gargoyles look desperately unhappy.
Compare St. Johns, Shenstone with any other local church, say Hopwas. Hopwas is a place you’d feel happy to give praise in, to wed, to christen; Shenstone looks like a place to go and endure, repent and suffer – it’s full of foreboding.
More interesting to me is the old tower in the churchyard; crumbling, it’s the remains of an earlier church. Perhaps it would have been better left.
Down in the village,I headed to the Lammas Land – a strip of parkland along the Footherley Brook. On the way, I passed The Plough In, busy, bright, inviting. Newly reopened, it’s good to see. It had been derelict for a few years.
December 25th – I stopped off for a breather at Canwell. A proud, foursquare, fearsomely geometric little church that was buggered, like so many were in the Lichfield Diocese with a horridly mismatched 1980s extension. The building and churchyard are still lovely though, and the porch was beautifully decorated. It’s a lonely spot, and I daresay few of the folk who pass it know it’s there, just off the London Road, nestling in the trees.
December 22nd – Near the top gate of Hopwas Churchyard, this pissy, dictatorial, arrogant notice. People pay to have their loved ones interred here. They pay for the service. Why shouldn’t they have more than one vase, or a card? Why must poppies and wreaths be removed within a month?
Heaven forbid someone might be sentimental in their loss.
The jobsworth cheeseparers who made these rules and posted them up will probably be sat somewhere now, wondering why churchgoing is in decline.
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