March 15th – Spring is in residence at Kings Hill Park, Darlaston.
The sun rises not long after six am, and sets not long after 6pm.
We are approaching the spring equinox.
Whatever the weather doom-mogers are saying, the light is here. There flowers are arriving. Spring is taking to her throne.
Welcome back, your majesty – it’s been a long winter.
February 22nd – Frustratingly, I had to pop into Birmingham on my way home, and caught the train back out, but it was gratifying to find myself cycling back from Shenstone in almost daylight, in a misty, lovely sunset.
It’s gone cold again, but this still felt quite spring-like.
January 29th – Kings Hill, my workaday home.
Light is just edging into my evening commute again. I am nearing the season of the early spring sunset. Tonight, I caught the dying light on the twin sisters, and saw the Kings Hill communication tower trading it’s secrets with a glowing, clear ether.
It’s been a cold, grey, horrible month: With the shoulder injury and that awful bug, coupled with atrocious weather riding a bike has been a battle since before Christmas. But tonight, I was fluid again. Speed, like the light, is returning.
I hope this darkness has reached it’s end.
January 22nd – Darkness is on the run.
Sunrise, 8:04 – Sunset 4:33. A month ago it was 8:18 and 3:53. On a decent day, it’s now not properly dark until gone 5pm.
This is making me happy. Every day, I note the tiny increase snatched back from the night, Every day, I’m a little bit closer.
Just shake this cold, get some flowers out, and it’ll be well on the way to spring.
November 30th – Heading home that evening I hit the canal at the Black Cock Bridge and rode into Brownhills in peaceful, cold darkness.
I stopped to have a go at one of my favourite muses – Clayhanger Bridge by night – and by removing the bike light, putting it on full and shining round, I don’t think I got a bad pic.
That’s ice on the canal, by the way.
November 24th – Taking a shortcut up Pier Street, I noticed that the boiler in the OAP club was running, and the plume of water vapour generated was drifting into the night illuminated by the sodium floodlight above.
At long exposure, it looked ghostly, but probably looked better in the shorter shot.
I watched it for a while, the patterns and colour were oddly mesmerising.
October 5th – A headache-grey, overcast and unpleasant day that was as grim and hard to face as the weather on the commute. Work is challenging at the moment and leaving me incredibly tired, day after day.
I’ve never known a summer end so abruptly and just dive headlong into a grim, grey, lifeless autumn like this – yes, the fungi is plentiful and the trees beautiful; but day after day the grey, sunshineless gloom is hard work.
I need a holiday. Returning home via a gloomy Catshill Junction, I was, for once fed up of the view.
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.
April 29th – I’d been out for a ride late in the afternoon and returned when night had fallen. On a frankly uninspiring photographic day, I spotted Morris, the Brownhills Miner as I came back through town.
I never liked the mix of white and blue lights they chose to illuminate this remarkable sculpture with, but now some of them have burnt out, the lighting looks a lot better: less operating theatre harsh and more industrial darkness, as if Morris was being lit by the ghost light of the welds that created him.
Still love every single stainless steel segment of him (and there are hundreds – just look!)
April 25th – Well, that was a shock. A light dusting of snow early in the morning was soon burned off by the sun, but my goodness, it felt cold on the m morning commute. Snow and frost this late in the year is not that unusual really – but after recent mild winters it was a shock.
By the time I reached work the only remaining snow was on vehicles.
Thankfully, the roads weren’t icy, but the unexpected snow clearly made many drivers nervous.
I knew my complaints about the recent cold were not just moaning and I was on to something….
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