Tag: Little Aston

July 9th – All I want is a day – one day – without rain. Sadly, it wasn’t to be. Returning from Birmingham, the train disgorged it’s charges unexpectedly at Four Oaks, so I cycled up the hill out of the suburb, and then cruised down to Little Aston. At Mill Green, it began; a soft rain fell steadily. Coming up the hill to Shire Oak, I was hot, sweaty and tired. Then I realised: It had stopped raining. 100 metres round the bend, the roads were bone dry and it hadn’t rained at all. 

The weather we’re having right now is crazy.

June 19th – cycling back from Blake Street station, I took a spin up through the backlanes of Litte Aston and Stonnall. There seems to be a bit of a wildflower theme going on at th moment, and when I spotted this patch of poppies growing in a ripening oilseed rape field at Little Aston Forge,I just had to take a picture. In the distance is Shenstone. A lovely view.

May 23rd – You guys are going to get so fed up of my summer pictures, but frankly, I don’t care. It’s gorgeous out there, and despite my hay fever, I’m loving every minute. Returning from Tyseley yesterday evening, the back lanes of Stonnall and little Aston were warm and full of summer. Birds flitted in and out of the hedgerows, rabbits dwelled on verges and in the shade of hedges. Fair weather cyclists were out in force. This is the season I live for, and it’s finally here. Get out and enjoy it, it’s gorgeous out there.

April 30th – I was going to break up today’s images into groups, and then I thought better of it. Today’s theme was clearly late spring, early summer, and an utter contrast to the previous day. I left mid-morning for a short meeting in Telford with the sun on my back and wind in my face. The damp landscape hummed with life of all kinds. The rustling of new foliage, the splash of water draining away in roadside ditches, the song of finches and blackbirds, busy in the hedgerows. At Stafford Park in Telford, a line of cherry tress had me stunned, and closer to home at Little Aston and Stonnall, wildflowers brightened the verges, field margins and spinneys. The lanes were crisp and bright, the scent of oilseed rape had risen and everything smelt delightful. 
Are days like this better for the preceding bad ones, or do they always seem this good?

I’d appreciate ID help with the flowers, please, if anyone knows. 

March 19th – Returning that evening after visiting both Telford and Redditch in the same day, I emerged from a decidedly windswept Blake Street station and headed homewards. Traces of the previous day’s remarkable sunset were still evident over Little Aston church, but the oddly keen wind made the going difficult. Spring is certainly here, but it can still be decidedly wintry at times.

February 10th – The predicted snow didn’t arrive in Brownhills – all we had was an icing-sugar dusting. I had to go to Redditch, and set out early on a filthy, drizzly morning to hop on the Cross City line. Arriving at the station just in time to watch the tail-lights of my train slide into the distance, I felt thoroughly fed up. 
An hour later, zipping through the snow covered landscape of south Birmingham, I cheered up. The snow had been more pronounced here, and when I got to Redditch, the town looked lovely. Church Green was gorgeous, and the cottages near Ipsley in the Arrow Valley were equally beautiful, which restored my good mood. It’s not often you can say that about Redditch. 

On the way back, I spotted two snowmen at Little Aston forge. I suspect they were from last weekend – they look like they were good efforts. Sorry I didn’t catch them in their prime… my apologies to the motorist behind whom I held up while taking the picture.

October 27th – Zipping home late from work in heavy rain, I was suffering a migraine, so headed for the quiet back lanes of Little Aston and Stonnall, the better not to contend with too much traffic. Near Little Aston forge, I spotted this fellow sat bolt upright in the road, enjoying the precipitation. This common toad – I’m surprised he wasn’t already hibernating – must have had a hard, dry summer, and he really seemed to be enjoying the rain. He was alert, and nervous. I moved him carefully to the grass verge and cycled on. Hopefully, he’ll stay out of the way of passing vehicles.

October 11th – I’ve been watching this tree change colour for  a couple of weeks. It stands in the pasture near Little Aston Forge, on the bank of the Black Brook, and has gradually turned the most dramatic shade of yellow. I think it’s some species of ash, but haven’t got close enough to look. On this dark, dismal evening with dusk falling, it was a cheery sight as I cycled home against the wind.

October 3rd – This is summer’s last gasp for 2011. The air was warm, the sun was out. There was an evil wind, though, and the dying leaves had been stripped from the trees. I was a hard battle getting home, with a big old bastard of a westerly, but here at Little Aston Forge, it was still beautiful. Soon, this lane will be barren and dun-coloured again. The light will change and the nights will close in. Until then, I resolve to enjoy every minute, as long as it lasts, headwind or not.

September 26th – The crews working on the overhead electricity line running over Mill Green seem to be wrapping up now – the scaffold support towers have been dismantled, and the warning signs have gone from the lanes of the area. There is still the odd vehicle parked near pylons in fields and gateways, however, as stuff is collected and tested. On my way to work this morning I spotted this hank of cable in a field gateway near Little Aston, and resolved to photograph it when I came home. I wondered why such a huge quantity of wire had not been stolen for scrap… then I checked it out. It’s not electrical wire, but multicored fibre optic cable. I hadn’t noticed before, but this seems to be wound around the bonding wires – the very top ones – between towers on the transmission line. Routing such cables in this way must be a good earner for the operators of the National Grid, as they can carry huge amounts of data, and the route is very direct without the hassle of digging. Genius.