Tag: church

#365daysofbiking I spire

April 25th – The weather is grim again – it’s cold with periodic heavy showers and I’m wondering what happened to spring – then, returning from Lichfield I realise that spring is still here and ongoing.

Looking over Sandhills from the Lichfield Road towards Ogley Hay over the green growth of a new crop and trees in fresh leaf, just peaking above the treetops, the spire of St James chChurch in Brownhills.

A lovely sight and a reminder that the weather will soon be better.

This journal is moving home. Please find out more by clicking here.

from Tumblr http://bit.ly/2XMMQIO
via IFTTT

#365daysofbiking Haunted

March 30th – I had to nip to Walsall at noon. I was tired from a very demanding week, but the weather was nice and the riding surprisingly easy.

I don’t mind Walsall these days – I long ago resolved my conflict with my memories and learned to embrace the place anew. It’s never been a bad town. It’s just that many who live here hate it because it isn’t the same as when they were young.

Of course it isn’t – all places change, and what folk resent is not the change in the town, but the change in themselves, I find.

I pushed my bike up Church Hill and admired the view, I plodded around the town below aimlessly but enjoying it immensely. I stopped for coffee in the sun. Then out on the canal to call at Sainsburys in Reedswood, where I noticed the last (nearly) whole remnant of Reedswood Power Station – the old pedestrian bridge over the long gone railway, now orphaned and fenced out of use between a pub and and the retail park.

Walsall is haunted by it’s own past, let alone the half-imagined one it has projected upon it.

This journal is moving home. Please find out more by clicking here.

from Tumblr https://ift.tt/2UtkdCR
via IFTTT

#365daysofbiking A quiet bower

February 23rd – The mist that fell in the last hour of this gorgeous day was possibly the best light in which to see Hoar Cross church. It was beautiful, and I’ve missed it so much.

The Church of the Holy Angels was built next to the great hall at Hoar Cross, but otherwise in the middle of nowhere by Lady Meynell after her husband was slain in a hunting accident (at least, according to Staffordshire historian Henry Thorold). Whatever it’s genesis, the grey blue light highlighting the peaceful but eerie church and grounds made for a serene and thoughtful 30 minute break.

Nice to see the primroses in flower here, and also the view over the Needwood Valley from the spot opposite the church which still has the bench donated by Noel Woodford, with the wonderful passage from Keats.

This journal is moving home. Please find out more by clicking here.

from Tumblr https://ift.tt/2ICI5iw
via IFTTT

#365daysofbiking Sweet James

#365daysofbiking Sweet James:

Christmas Eve – Last minute tasks took me to Brownhills, and up to Ogley Hay.  As I passed St James Church the night sky was deep blue and the lights were on as people prepared inside the church for the evening service to come.

I’m not Christian and I’m not religious, but I love church architecture – it fascinates me, and I like Brownhills’ parish church – despite the atrocious extension, it’s a lovely, working class design, built in 1850 and still going strong.

Merry Christmas folks.

This journal is moving home. Please find out more by clicking here.

from Tumblr http://bit.ly/2SkNxXz
via IFTTT

#365daysofbiking Gifted:

December 6h – Every year for the last decade or so, Walsall Wood Councillors (currently messers Harris, Sears and Clarke) have dug deep in their own pockets and clubbed together to fund the Christmas Tree in Walsall Wood, and I was pleased to note tonight that the tradition continues.

Walsall Wood has a lovely tree this year, and it does look most excellent.

I am miles away from the donors politically, but I must compliment them ion their annual act of generosity.

Thanks you, and do have a very merry Christmas!

#365daysofbiking Farewell wellfare:

September 16th – The rain steadily increased, and I headed up the gorgeous Cross o’ th’ Hand lane to Farewell, where I called in at the church in steady rain.

Farewell church, possibly dating back in part to the 1400s (some say earlier) is gorgeous and the rain enhanced the sad beauty of the roses in the graveyard.

A sad day punctuated with great beauty.

#365daysofbiking The softness of the hour:

September 14th – Passing through Walsall in the late evening, in a rain-soaked golden hour. Just after a heavy downpour, the light was lush, soft and suffused with gold.

The merest hint of a rainbow over St Matthews reminded me why I love this town so much.

#365daysofbiking Through the haze

September 1st – I headed out to Whittington Country Fair and Craft Show (a large gallery from which can be seen on my main blog here) along Bullmoor Lane and through Wall on a warm, lovely late summer day. 

This lane has always captivated me; diverted south to accommodate the toll motorway, a hill was created at one end 15 years ago that now gives commanding views of the treetops to Wall Village, with little hint of the motorway and A5 between.

A gorgeous, little known gem.

#365daysofbiking Light and shade

August 29th – I passed through Kings Hill Park twice during the morning – once on my way to work, when it was dull and overcast, and once at lunchtime, when the sun was out. 

The appearance of the twin sisters – the Catholic and C of E churches at Wednesbury differed markedly, and not just because they were taken from either end to he park.

The sun shows the gathering autumn, and the brightness of the verdigris on the one church roof. I like the way it picks out the coin tiles and clock face, even though the clock is currently stuck resolutely at one o’clock.

I never tire of this view. I hope the timepiece is fixed soon – few things speak more eloquently of urban decay than a stopped public clock.

I must say, the Canon G1X really does show it’s chops when pushed.

August 25th – I loped back from Alvecote through Seckington, Clifton, Darlaston and Whittington. It was a lovely evening ride marred only by my stomach troubles.

At Haunton, the beautiful little Catholic church there remains a hidden gem, the rows of graves of nuns from the local convent still sobering and very sad. Here I noted cyclamen, another sign of Autumn, and darkness fell what seemed to be cruelly early bit with a gorgeous orange moon.

Autumn is tapping me on the shoulder now…