Christmas Day – I realised I had no cash, and spun up the High Street late in the evening to go to the cashpoint. Brownhills was dead, somnambulant and deserted. I didn’t see a soul.
After the hubbub and bustle of the day, it was really, really lovely.
December 15th – Brownhills High Street. Darkness, rain and lights. Time to grab a takeaway, get home, dry off and have a mug or two of tea.
It felt like Christmas there today. Something about the lights, night and rain; every year, I always feel there are obstacles between me and Christmas – need to get x job finished, attend y event, buy z etc. and they steadily tick down until the holiday.
This year, I seem to have cleared most of the hurdles early, and I have a decided air of smugness about me. This can’t really end well.
December 3rd – There’s a lot of grumbling about Christmas lights at the moment. I find it all a bit puzzling, to be honest.
This country voted in an austerity-pushing government, and people are now outraged austerity is affecting things near to them, like Christmas lights. I guess the pitch of such a policy was that it would always apply to others…
I think Brownhills lights are OK, to be honest. They’ll not set the world afire, and Blackpool has nothing to worry about, but they’re cheerful enough.
Personally, I preferred the lovely window display in the upstairs flat window of a shop in High Street. That seems more about Christmas to me.
November 30th – OK, everybody stop panicking. The Christmas lights are up and on in Brownhills. You can all stop mailing/messaging me.
Yes, I know it’s a work in progress, and one or two ain’t on yet, but they’re up, and look much better than this photo would suggest.
Folk seem really early with this stuff this year…
November 27th – I again returned via Walsall Wood, but unlike the night before, it was clear. I see the christmas lights are going up, and as ever, the High Street looked bustling and beautiful in the night. Walsall Wood is often overlooked, yet it preserves it’s village atmosphere and is surprisingly beautiful in parts.
An undervalued gem.
November 26th – A dreadfully weary, damp homeward commute in heavy mist that soaked and deadened everything. Trapped on the right of a dithering vehicle at the Spring Cottage Lights, I headed straight over and through Walsall Wood for a change.
Even on this dark, horrible night, there was a kind of insular, glowing beauty in the murk.
October 20th – I had to pop into Walsall Wood on my way home, so shot up the Lichfield Road. It wasn’t a pleasant evening, and there was a distinct nip in the air.
As I came over Walsall Wood Bridge, I couldn’t resist a dusk shot up the High Street to Shire Oak. This shows that Walsall Wood is still remarkably green, and I love how the vehicle lights look like christmas lights on the tree in the distance.
I hear lots of people talk about Pelsall and Aldridge as ‘villages’, but Walsall Wood is perhaps the one locally that still retains most of the village character. It’s a lovely little place.
October 19th- a busy, fraught and not terribly productive day, I spun out past teatime into a dark, deserted and somnambulant town. I had the little tripod, and I welcomed the darkness back into my life.
I spun up the High Street, over Anchor Bridge, and back down the canal, and didn’t see a soul; there was life on the narrowboats, as the chimneys were gently smoking, yet there were no other signs of life at all.
I love the new LED floodlights on Silver Court – and Anchor Bridge will always be a muse.
Time to embrace the blackness again…
September 26th – Another great sky as I nipped down into Stonnall in the dying light. Coming back into Brownhills form Shire Oak, the view, as ever, surprised with it’s beauty.
The view down Shire Oak Hill to Brownhills is one of the best around here, but few ever seem to notice it. Yes, it’s urban, and not beautiful, really. But it has an interesting, busy urban charm I rather love – particularly at sundown, when the buildings catch the light and are rendered precious.
5th September – At the top of Digbeth High Street in Birmingham, one of about 130 or so left.
Highly unusual, it captures a fleeting moment in British history. Been meaning to feature this for some time – and it’s not the only one in Brum, either.
A fine bit of British quirkyness on a fun afternoon.
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