Tag: cold

December 10th – Can’t ever remember a winter passing this quickly. It doesn’t seem ten minutes ago since shirtsleeves and sun; but today – unusually heading through Pelsall to Walsall due to a necessary call on the way – winter had arrived in full force. The second day of a headwind forged on Satan’s back step, it was relentless and drained my energy.

As was pointed out to me, it’s only a matter of a week and a half until the solstice – and then, opening out again. I dreaded the darkening this year, but somehow, thankfully, the usually associated black dog didn’t ride pillion. The relief of this has uplifted me through the darkness.

Pelsall Common reminded me of Joni Mitchell ‘Shivering trees standing in naked rows’ – but hey, it’ll be Bryter Layter.

And so, the season’s wheel advances inexorably on, with me in a surprisingly good humour for the time of year. I think someone must be slipping happy pills into my tea…

December 8th – A shock today, commuting on a cold, hard morning with the wind against me; I noticed today that the leaves had gone and winter was truly here. It was chilly, and I felt it in my bones.

The sun shone, though, and passing on the Ring Road, I noticed the site of the proposed new cinema between Tesco and Stafford Street in Walsall had been cleared of scrub and it looks like work might be about to start here.

It’ll be interesting to see what develops.

November 25th – It was a bright, frosty and hazy morning, but sadly I had another appointment early and missed the best of it. It was still beautiful, however, when I headed to work. Passing that jewel of Walsall, the Arboretum, the view over HathertonLake to the bandstand was irresistible.

A cracking day.

November 17th – Ah, that Late Night Feelings thing again. I found myself at Walsall Station, in the early evening – not as a passenger but waiting for one, helping a beginner commuter by travelling together in the evening Walsall traffic.

I love the lights of this station at night. It started raining soon after, and made for a wet, hard commute come. Not a good start for a beginner…

November 5th – Wow, in came winter. Cold, but dry and the return of a soft, hazy but harsh morning light that’s actually rather beautiful. I don’t pass down the east end Station Street in Darlaston much these days, but still love it; yes, it’s industrial and not conventionally beautiful; but I love the clashing architectures, the air of busy urbanity and the sights, sounds and smells of a busy, multicultural town.

Just wish they’d fix the potholes…

October 15th – I returned to Brownhills late in the afternoon when it was again pouring with rain. This wasn’t everyday, lacklustre drizzle; this was dense, heavy rain that squeezed in through any not-quite-close zip or gap, and rendered me soaked. 

Once again, I found myself taking a breather on a bridge, just listening to the music – a rattling percussion, accompanied be geese honking happily.

Brownhills, you ain’t no looker; but that’s OK neither am I. But I do love you. Even on the horrid days like these.

August 26th – The day was better, I guess, by virtue of being dry, but when I set out for a tentative ride mid-afternoon it was cold, and a harsh wind blew. It wasn’t a bad October day, I thought.

I’m taking it easy. My foot isn’t completely better, and I thought I’d see how far I could push it before embarking on longer rides again. I looped up to Chasewater, then down to Wall, through Chesterfield and Hilton, back to Lower Stonnall, then home. Apart from a bit of toe-burn, not too bad.

What did impress was the fruits I saw. A terrific year for large, plump conkers; the tree at Edial between Burntwood and Pipe Hill is laden, and although suffering leaf miner damage, has a huge crop this year. In a few weeks standing at that bus stop could be hazardous.

At Wall, the walnut tree has a crop too. After finding it last year, I didn’t expect it to fruit this year too, but it has, with the lime-like ripening walnuts hanging from the boughs. I picked up a few windfalls, which were firm and large. When ripe, the green husks will split to reveal the more familiar brown nut inside. That’s if any survive the squirrels.

The Walnut tree also seems to have some kind of leaf miner activity. There are ‘blisters’ on some of the otherwise healthy, waxy leaves. I wonder what the bug is?

August 25th – A wet, miserable bank holiday Monday. This was the wettest, coldest one I think I’ve ever known. I always find this day depressing; it’s the last holiday before Christmas, and for me, seems to flag the end of summer. A week later, the kids will all be back at school, the nights will be drawing in even more, and the sun will lose it’s warmth.

In short, we’re advancing to Autumn at a fair lick now.

I rode out mid morning during a lull in the rain, and spun around Brownhills and Chasewater. The fruits, glistening with rain, were gorgeous, and the heather is particularly beautiful at the moment. The still green embankments and hedgerows cut a bright dash through the gloom.

I did note puffballs on the old railway off Engine Lane, another harbinger of Autumn. 

At Chasewater, the valves are fully open and the waterlevel is dropping quickly. I wonder if there’s a purpose to this, as the canal is clearly full to overflowing.

A grim ride on a grim day. Brace yourselves, summer is closing out now.

February 11th – After the snow stopped the day in Telford was dry and sunny.

‘Never mind’ they said. ‘It’ll be dry for the journey home’ they said.

I left Walsall in the dry, without putting waterproof trousers on. 5 minutes later, when it was too late, the heaven opened, and then the rain turned to snow. For the second time today, I was wet, cold and fed up.

At least no one can ever accuse me of being a fair weather cyclist.

February 9th – The day was pretty grey, really, but had it’s moments. Fed up of the mud and slurry of recent haunts, I cycled down into Lichfield to pick up some shopping, and I returned via the back lanes around Wall.

The winter panorama of Hammerwich was stunning, but the wind was evil, and it blew me down Pipehill at a fearsome speed. Passing through Sandfields, I stopped to look at the Pumping Station, an architectural gem marooned in a sea of modern mundanity. I wish the preservation campaign every success.

At Wall, as the sun was beginning to set, I found my first snowdrops of the year growing in the churchyard.

Spring will come, I can feel it now. It wasn’t dark until gone 5:30pm..