Tag: golden hour

November 26th – Another day of beautiful light, but cold. Probably not cold for the time of year, but after recent mild weeks it seems to be positively arctic. 

I’d been doing a lot of mechanical work on the bike in recent days, and needed to test it with a shortish run with plenty of good hill action, so I went out early afternoon, over to Shenstone, Weeford, Hints, Hopwas, up the canal to Hademore and back in darkness through Wall and Chesterfield.

I took time to study the churches at Shenstone, Weeford and Hopwas – from the hideous but triumphant Gothic of Shenstone, to the farmhouse twee of Hopwas, all three are classics. All within a short distance.

Staffordshire is unusually blessed with a stunning and varied ecclesiastical architectural tradition.

November 35th – I passed through Chasewater in a splendid, cold golden hour, hoping maybe to catch some red deer. Sadly, the deer were elsewhere as there was a rugby match on over at the club, so they’d probably wandered to more peaceful environs until the shouting and cheering was over.

What I did find, however, was a beautiful north heath which, as Ian Anderson would have put it was ‘Glowing in the evening cool’ – and the view of the Paviours Road footbridge in low, golden sun was gorgeous.

Not a bad ride at all today – but bitterly cold and still with the treacherous, slippery conditions.

I have a feeling we’re in for a sharp winter this year.

October 27th – Yet the day had it’s best in store for me. Labouring up past Aldershaw feeling tired, I returned via Chesterfield, Wall Butts, Hilton and Stonnall in a truly glorious, remarkable golden hour of beautiful orange light and glowing autumn colour.

It’s amazing how one afternoon can completely transform your mood and lift you from the gloom you’ve been in.

September 22nd – It was a long day. From Cradley, I had to drive to Derbyshire and back, and by the time I rode home at unset, I was tired and irritable and not feeling well. It seemed I had it with a cold.

Riding down Green Lane from Walsall, the sunlight caught the turning leaves and made them precious. Not too far from home, sunlight after a grim day, and the promise of good food, a brew and the comfort of family.

The lane and light called me on.

September 9th – Change is happening fast at the site of the old market in Brownhills. At the start of the week the earthmovers and excavators were just moving on site, and a mere five days later the groundworks are well underway with new sewers and the like being dug.

I’m sad to see the marketplace gone in some ways – like most Brownhillians I remember the good days of the market here as being excellent – but we have to move on, and the days of prosperity for the traditional market generally in the UK have long since passed, their job being replaced by online retailers and everyone’s favourite tat bazaar, eBay.

But it will also be nice to see life here again once more.

July 16th – The dying light intensified it’s drama as I headed back wearily to Brownhills. The Parade is always a treat but with so many mature deciduous trees there now, a low sun is a real treat.

It’s not hard to see the beauty in this place. You just need to be receptive to it and find the right light.

July 16th – Slowly bumbling over to Chasewater to catch the sunset, I wasn’t disappointed. I was pleased to see the wakeboarders out on such a temperate evening, and they made for good photos. 

I’m pleased this particular facility is doing well and seems popular – and it’s a favourite of local photography enthusiasts who love to catch the thrills and spills of the novice and experienced boarder alike.

Chasewater really looks better than it does in a golden hour. For the time I loafed here, enjoying the moment and forgetting I had a headache, I’d have not been anywhere else in the world.

June 3rd – I rode out on an annual pilgrimage – to the Klondyke Mill steam fair at Draycott in the Clay near Sudbury, and had a great afternoon of very English entertainment. From there, the afternoon was pleasant enough so I headed for Scropton, Tutbury, Rolleston, Horninglow, SInai Park, Tatenhill, Barton and then home via Walton upon Trent, Croxall and Whittington. A nice 68 miler in decent warm and sunny weather, topped off by a beautiful sunset over Brownhills as I returned home. 

The day was great, the little villages sublime and the golden hour – haunted by the blackest, most threatening cloud was superb.

March 2nd – As I said yesterday, the season of transition is upon me; and that includes the period of travelling – on good days, at least – in the golden hour.

I often talk about this magical time, when just approaching sunset the light becomes soft, suffused with pink and gold and changes everything it touches to a precious, rare jewel.

There are few better places to catch such a time than Kings Hill Park and the view of the Twin Sisters. Bathed in the evening sun, they looked even more majestic than usual, but so did the park, and the sunset on the way home along the canal wasn’t too shabby, either.

This’ll do.