January 4th – A wet commute both ways; not full on rain, but periodic drizzle. It was a clingy, cold kind of wet that soaked you without actually doing much.
Fed up of the traffic on the way home, I hopped on to the canal at Walsall Wood – a real mistake. Everything is saturated, and the mud and puddles are endless.
December 22nd – Crawling back up Shire Oak Hill, into a headwind and driving rain. The traffic is very odd this week, as it’s quiet, but has frantic bursts as people return from shopping or whatever. The driving is a tad odd. This week is sort of a netherworld, almost a holiday but not quite; it’s like Britain just has a skeleton crew on.
And still this rain. You know what I want for Christmas? Some keen frosts, some snow and a bloody fine dry spring.
December 22nd – At least now, we’ve had the Solstice and the shortest day – it’s all coasting to spring now, whatever the weather, we still wander gently but surely into the light. My darkness is retreating.
Holding back the darkness in its own way is this Christmassy cottage near Springhill, between Lynn and Sandhills. I had to nip to Stonnall on my way home again, and the rain had made for yet another commuting battle. But seeing the white lights twinkling, and the thoughtful execution made me smile.
A light in the darkness. Merry Christmas!
December 17th – At Telford after a flying visit, overlooking the station towards the town centre, a remarkable sunset to close the bracket of the wonderful dawn.
It had been a long day. Inbetween the two, I’d spent a morning in Darlaston.
Every Christmas I swear I’ll take it easy in the run-up. Every year I fail to do so and end up in a mad rush. Will I ever learn?
Mind you, I’d have missed this wonderful sight…
December 16th – Shhh! Whisper, you’ll scare it away. It’s shy, timid and rarely seen around here these days.
That’s a very rare blue sky, and I’m shocked and surprised to see such a lovely example today.
It’s been so long since I saw one, I had to check a reference guide to find out what it was…
December 15th – The magic numbers are important, so very important.
This is the data page of my bike GPS, the screen where I keep the figures important to me while riding – distance, battery level, time, average speed and all that geeky stuff. Top right number though, is sort of a mirror of the one bottom right; daily sunset time and sunrise.
Today, 3:52pm. This should, hopefully, be the earliest it gets. From now on, the sunset gets later every day (although the sunrise continues to get a wee bit later). This number is one of my small motivational yardsticks that get me through winter and this figure has several notable points; but none is more significant to me than this.
By January, it will be after 4pm again. It may be weeks away, but the darkness will be retreating, and spring will be tiptoeing in.
Today, as I wheeled the bike indoors from another wet commute, the raindrop-dappled glass glowed at me reassuringly in the darkness, and I knew in that instant that so very nearly, so very close now, so soon I will have beaten the advancing darkness for another season.
December 11th – As the grey, damp days and dark nights wind on, it’s hard finding colour in the world, and it can be hard to keep this thing positive – but it’s not hard at all when you spot things as lovely as these polyanthus, recently planted at Telford station, which seem to be blooming just in time for Christmas.
I was making a flying visit at lunchtime, and the journey was long and fraught – but these cheered me on no end.
December 10th – As I approached Brownhills, it occurred to me it was a good time to try a long exposure shot of Clayhanger canal bridge.
Now that didn’t work out too bad at all – really pleased with this.
December 8th – A grim day in which everything went wrong, including leaving home with a flat camera. At work, I recharged it, but I left for home in steady rain and got as far as High Heath before I felt motivated to use it.
Today, the ride in had been dogged by wind and a mechanical issue, work itself had been a succession of protracted difficulties and conflicts, and the ride home was wet and I was without waterproofs. I stopped in a deserted, wet Green Lane, this desolate view is exactly how I felt.
Tomorrow will be better. It has to be.
December 7th – Another fine commute on a dry but windy morning, and again, it felt warmer than it should. Victoria Park in Darlaston is gorgeous at this time of year; it’s contours, slopes and features – including the remarkable footbridge – look wonderful in the low winter sunlight.
A fantastic place that’s well worth a visit.
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