A commute from the 26th March, turned to video to go with an article on my main blog noting the first anniversary of this journal. Please read the original article by clicking here – and if the video above is blocked in your country, there’s an alternate version linked in the article. 

Here’s to more of the same… and another 365daysofbiking.

March 29th – It was another gorgeous morning, but the mist pictures were getting a but trite. I didn’t get the camera out much at all today, sometimes you just don’t. Coming home from Lichfield Trent Valley that evening, something about Greenhill in the city caught my eye. Maybe it was the low sun, the same lazy, yellow sunlight I’d noticed in the morning. But this part ofLichfield – as old as any, really, and once site of the east gate – was painted magical for a short while. It captivated me.

March 28th – The return journey was also really enjoyable – the Trent Valley Road was quite congested, and I enjoyed zipping uphill past the stationary cars. I chose to return over Aldershawe, and down into Wall. Taking the track beside the church, I popped into the churchyard to enjoy one of my favourite spots – sitting on the terrace wall between the upper and lower churchyard, contemplating the view of the Roman remains. Well worth a look around if you get chance, and it’s a lovely spot on a nice day such as this.

March 28th – Misty mornings are the order of the week, and I’m so glad that I’m cycling to Lichfield throughout this distinctly summery spell. The days are warm, still and glorious, the evenings deceptively chilly. But the mornings? I see the countryside just after sunrise. Shrouded in lazy mist, golden light and curious patches of grey. I wouldn’t have missed the last few morning commutes for anything. Today, I had time to spare and dropped off Pipe Hill down the back lanes, down over the old level crossing to Deans Slade. Captivating. 

March 27th – I’ve seen this curious ladies bike around Lichfield before. Today it was locked up at 5:45pm outside Wilkinson in the city. I think I’ve featured it when I caught it locked up outside Waitrose. I’m trying to decide if this is a modern copy of an old design, or just a well preserved old bike. Rod brakes, original looking Sturmey Archer 3 speed hub, authentic rust in places. it’s a very individual bike, and I’d hate to ride it. I bet those brakes are evil at the best of times, mores in the wet. It fascinates me that the owner locks it – no chance of a fast getaway on that. A real oddity.

March 26th – The morning fog, as Kate Bush would have it. A gorgeous speedy ride into Lichfield to catch the train to Leicester. I came out at sunrise, and there seemed to be some kind of inversion. An ethereal, patchy mist clung to hollows and hedges, in places only a couple of feet high. I could have photographed it for hours, but my train was due…

March 17th – A recovery ride. I had to do some bits and pieces in Lichfield, which was a good opportunity to spin the aching legs. Surprisingly,  they were quite fluid once I got moving. The weather was rather grim and Lichfield as quiet as I’d come to expect it lately. It really is starting to give the feeling of a place half asleep. It was in Breadmarket street that I noticed this; it must have been a really, really unlucky shot, speared neatly on a pigeon spike. That’s gotta hurt… I bet the prize striker got a ribbing for it.

March 16th – As I noted last week, something stirs in the damper parts of the hedgerow.  With every shower, more and more amphibians are on the move. In the dark, on a dry night, this common toad was crossing Netherstowe Lane. These misunderstood creatures are seeking water to mate for spring. Their ribbons of spawn are distinct from the clumps left by frogs. Utterly devoid of road sense, they are killed in their thousands at this time of year as sadly, they blend into the tarmac rather too well to see. Being a soft old sod, I stop, and help Mr. Toad to the other side of the road by nudging him gently on the backside with my foot. Best that way, they’ll occasionally let out a startling scream, but at least they won’t wee all over you, a defensive gesture that often shocks the unwary…