Tag: cold

March 27th – The winter is still sat upon my shoulders, weighing me down. Today was another day fraught with bad travel connections, and tomorrow doesn’t look to be much better. Waiting at Blake Street this morning, it was bitingly cold, and snowing. Rather than the enjoyment I normally feel when it snows, today, it was just bleak, more of the same. Due to a signal failure, it took me two and a half hours to get to Telford. The circumspect mood did not improve.

Returning from Shenstone later in the day, there seemed to have a been a substantial thaw during the day – many of the fields I passes looked green, whereas they’d been white the day before. However, the larger drifts will take some time to recede. This one – currently preventing any access to Thornyhurst Lane – is huge.

March 26 – A stunning sunset, which as Jayne Howarth noted on Twitter, gave a spring-like light that wasn’t justified by the conditions. It was cold, and brisk as I cycled the backlanes from Shenstone, and the coming darkness felt threatening and sharp as I cycled home with the wind behind me. The roads were clear and largely dry, although the thaw had evidently set in during daytime. The sky changed colour a number of times, and it was thoroughly beautiful. 

A gorgeous end to what had been a somewhat trying day.

March 25th – It promised to be a thoroughly dreadful journey home. Checking travel information just before leaving work, there was chaos at New Street, with overhead line difficulties causing mass cancellations and a reduction to Sunday service on all lines I could get home from. Pitching up a the station, I went for a Walsall train, then heard an announcement for a Lichfield one. Just making it to the right platform, I easily climbed aboard a 6-carriage set which had seats to spare. I actually left New Street before I would normally. This was nice and rather odd. I was very, very lucky.

Alighting at Blake Street, I found the light to be fantastic and even the backlanes clear. The wind was still sculpting powdery snow into impressive drifts, and coming from the northeast, was a distinct and formidable crosswind. 

As Laura Marling says ‘I’ll never love England more than when it’s covered in snow.’

March 24th – Another bitterly cold day, and the worst snows since the early 1980s continued overnight, only ceasing late afternoon. Oddly, though, the sun tried to break through most of the day. 

I slipped out mid afternoon. The main roads again, were clear, and some of the more minor ones like Coppice Lane were very clear, too, although standing water was everywhere. I spun around Brownhills, getting a feel for the evil east wind that was blowing powder-dry snow in clouds. At the old level crossing at the top, a lovely little robin caught my eye, flitting about amongst the laurels at the side of the road. As I passed the common, I noticed one of the best ice-castles I’ve ever seen, with it’s proud constructor playing nearby. 

Up at Chasewater, the waterfowl were quiet following the daily visit from the Swan Lady, who drove past me on Pool Road; but there were plenty of other interesting birds about defying the positively evil wind. I fought it up the A5, to the Barracks Lane junction, where the sheep weren’t minding the snow too much. The drifts in Barracks Lane were sobering.

It’s getting on to the end of March. British Summer Time starts in a week. Can I have some spring, please?

March 23rd – I went back to Chasewater to investigate the overflow situation, and because my conscience was burning me badly. I needed to feed those poor swans. The snow still fell, and the wind was evil. This was the worst snowfall I’d seen since the early 1980s, yet I was surprised at the diversity of the a avian population I encountered. Crows, waterfowl, gulls. Pied wagtails hunted what I presume were barely visible bugs over the overflow spillway. They mingled with a small, brown sparrow-like bird I didn’t recognise. Consulting with birders online later, these cute little brown jobs with comical flight and similar feeding behaviour to the wagtails turned out to be meadow pipits, probably brought down by the snow during migration. I was fascinated by the way they clung to the spillway walls.

I needn’t have fretted about the swans, as their mum was there. The Swan Lady and her husband are legendary at Chasewater, and they feed and tend the swans, taking note of absentees and arrivals. The incongruous and greedy flock gathered round their guardians with eager and expectant joy, and much honking. Bless.

Mach 11th – A remarkable, and strange day. Periods of bright, clear sunshine interspersed with sudden, sharp and heavy snowstorms. They’d last for 15 minutes, then the sun would come out again. All the while, a bitter, biting wind came from the east. It really was viciously cold.

On the way home, I boarded a train at Tyseley in a blizzard, then ten minutes later cycled through Birmingham City Centre in bright sunshine. Coming home from Shenstone with the wind (thankfully) behind me, the sun was bright, but the sky to the easy was dark and threatening.

I sped home, hoping to avoid any oncoming snow – thankfully, the sky didn’t fulfil it’s promise. 

An odd day to commute, and little sign of spring, although the light was gorgeous.

February 12th – After a protracted and tortuous journey to Telord to undertake a five minute task, I needed to be in Tyseley that afternoon. The snow remained, and it was really quite cold and grey. A succession of delayed trains, grim light and relentless chilliness darkened my mood all day, so much so that when the time came to go home, I was glad.

I’ve been away from Tyseley for just over a week. I’ve really missed it. Looking from the Wharfdale Road bridge, I liked the snow on the terrace roofs stretching out beyond the railway to Camp Hill, whilst down on the platform, the railway signals twinkled in the mist.

Hopefully, tomorrow will be a better day.

February 5th – By heck, it was nippy this morning. We’d had the merest icing sugar dusting of snow, but after the almost humid warmth of the preceding period, the cold was a shock, as was the ice on the roads, particularly Wallheath Lane. I stomped and puffed into my hands as the sun rose at Shenstone Station; it caught the clouds beautifully and I reached for the camera.

Some things are worth getting cold for.

February 3rd – Out at sunset again, and another good one. I had something to deliver up the Wood so headed up the canal. As I rounded the bend at Catshill Junction, the quality of the sky really stunned me. I followed it up along the canal looking for a good vantage point, and never really found one; there would have been some great views over Bullings Heath were they not impossible to get to due to the canal bank copse and barbed wire. As it was, I contented myself with the three bridges – Clayhanger, the Black Cock and Lathams Bridge, behind Barons Court.

You can’t beet a good winter sunset.