March 14th – It was a gorgeous morning, and it looks like the last one for a while. The morning ride was lovely, and the sun over the city more so. Moor Street Station in Birmingham continues to fascinate; the combination of old, new, interesting textures and architecture make for a lovely, light station that’s pleasant and relaxed when the sun shines. In that, it reminds me of Hull and London Marylebone, both wonderful stations, filled with soft, natural light when the sun shines.
October 3rd – Out to Telford at dawn meant cycling to Shenstone Station. The weather has been really variable this week, the one constant factor being the northeasterly wind that’s blown me to Shenstone in the morning and home from Walsall at night. Just as this is the time of year for good sunsets, it’s also the time for decent sunrises, too, although I’m usually too rushed to photograph them. Today was a good example – a gorgeous sky heralding a temperate day. Coupled with the shinbone skyline, it was beautiful.
June 10th – For the second time in two days, I hit Chasewater. I was going on to ride the Sherbrook Valley on the Chase, but couldn’t resist a spin around the park in the sunshine. The weather was warm and soft, and I was in shorts and shirtsleeves. The boating pool was, as usual, a cloudy soup of mallards, canada geese, swans and coots, mingling with bird waste and discarded bread, but the waterfowl seem happy enough. Unusually, a mallard had her ducklings on the lake, including this rather fetching yellow one. A lovely thing indeed.
May 8th – Bloody typical. A miserable bank holiday Monday, followed by a crestfallen return to work on a gorgeous, bright sunny spring day. I was heading to Telford, which means catching a train from New Street’s platform 4c, which I always think of as being Birmingham’s equivalent of platform nine and three quarters. There was something about the light today, the sun, the music I listened to on the way… it did feel very good to be out, even if I was going to work. Most peole seem to hate this station, and aspects of it are truly horrendous; but I also have a genuine affection for the old place. It feels like home, I guess.
October 14th – A day working from home, followed by a couple of hours of frantic errand-running. On the canal near Catshill, just by Lanes Farm at 5pm, the light was mellow, soft and golden. This is mad, it’s like August; in two weeks the clocks go back. What gives? Still, I’m not complaining one little bit… after a grey start to the week, the is just the ticket.
July 24th – I would expect that if the weather holds, the harvest will begin in earnest soon. Near Shenstone, the rapeseed either side of their path to Footherley is bone dry and very ripe. Full of bugs and animals, pretty soon this field like so many others will be stubble, and then ploughed again. It’s odd to think that all the drama of the vivid yellow flowers, the scent, the visual assault… all for a tiny black seed, laden with oil.
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