December 19th – It may be deepest winter, but along the cycleways and towpaths there are still tenacious hips, haws and berries clinging on to sparse shrubs and trees providing food for songbirds, who seem to be devouring them now with a passion not shown in many a year.
Grandad used to say that if there was a profusion of fruit, it meant a bad winter was in store. I’m not sure about that, but the birds do seem to be stocking up for something this year.
I wonder what they know we don’t?
December 16th – Heading back into Brownhills mid evening, the roads were oddly still busy, the traffic through the High Street heavy and challenging. Emergency vehicles came through, perhaps an accident, or perhaps just the normal buzz of life.
I was tired. It had been a long week. But a pleasant meal and evening with workmates had been enjoyable.
A weekend, and three days to go. I just need to hang in there.
December 16th – On my return from work, I hopped on the canal at Walsall Wood, and enjoyed the peaceful darkness as far as Anchor Bridge, where I switched back onto the High Street.
The canal was peaceful, silent, eerie, with only snatches of light in the darkness, my headlamp scything the night as I rode.
But riding in the dark is mentally hard work, and I hadn’t got it in me. For once, the road felt safer, so I took it.
December 15th – My life, at the moment.
Telford, late. Heavy rain, waiting for a train that was, at least, not crowded and on time. A real late night feelings moment – I particularly liked the effect of the platform lights in the rain.
Only four days to go now.
December 15th – The cotoneaster this year seems to have not been doing so well. These bright red berries, beloved of blackbirds, are normal evident in profusion along urban towpaths, footpaths and cycleways, but for some reason are heavily planted on industrial estates.
This huge bed at Moxley is normally a sea of red-orange at this time of year, with a permanent fluster of wings and beaks. But not this year; I’d say the crop is abut 30 percent of it’s normal size.
Whilst my grandfather used to say ‘it’s always a good year for something’ I guess the reverse is true and this just wasn’t the cotoneaster’s year.I hope it’s not cold otherwise the blackbirds may struggle.
December 14th – Having arrived at work, I discovered I was needed in Telford, so nothing for it, I headed for the train. At New Street, there were delays and confusion and the usual busy, frenetic chaos.
I stood at the end of the platform, wandering what I was doing there. Every signal light I could see was red.
Some days wear you out before you start.
December 13th – Returning late again from Birmingham, this time to Shenstone, back to my beloved rural station. The weather was damp, but warm again and the riding was easy, which is just as well as I was exhausted.
This is the busiest pre-Christmas I’ve had in a long, long time: normally about now I’m winding down and getting stuff ready for the new year. This year I’m doing none of that yet.
I’ll be so glad when I finish work.
December 12th – On the way back into Brownhills, the air was a little clearer, so I stopped on Anchor Bridge for a classic nighttime Brownhills photo.
As well as playing about with aperture settings of late, I’ve discovered exposure compensation. Must say I think the darker image is the better of the two.
One day I must read up on what all these adjustments actually do…
December 12th – I can’t lie, it was an absolutely foul day for commuting; in the morning the temperature hovered around zero degrees and there was a surprising damp chill to the air. By my return in the evening, the temperature had risen and if felt warm again, but there was a constant foggy, misty drizzle.
It was bad cycling weather. I’d had to nip into Brum as I often do at this time of year to drop a bottle off. The trains were bad on the way back, so I ended up getting a train to Four Oaks and riding back from there.
Only 7 more working days before a holiday. I think they’re going to be long ones. Hope the weather settles in time for Christmas.
December 9th – Spotted as I stopped in Stonnall for a couple of items on the way home.
I’m glad they qualified that – can’t have people thinking the real Michael Jackson was coming to Stonnall. What with him being deceased, and everything.
Seriously though, if you can carry off a tribute to the odder fifth of the Jackson 5, I salute you. That must be a tough gig. Literally.
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