January 24th – Also stunning was Walsall Arboretum. It’s not a place I go much, if I’m honest, but seeing the mist-shrouded lake as I passed on Lichfield Road, I decided I could spare some time to pop through the gates and have a mooch.
I wasn’t disappointed.
Walsall’s premier park wore the frost and golden morning light beautifully, and I resolved that this is a place I really should go more often.
A great ride into work that really restored my faith.
January 24th – An errand in Brownhills meant that I actually ended up travelling to work in the light for once, which was novel and welcome after so much darkness.
I hadn’t expected the quite hard frost that was a feature of the morning, and travelling through Jockey Meadows and High Heath the frozen fields, sun and lack of breeze combined to generate wonderfully soft mist.
A great start to the day and a lovely journey. So nice to be in the light again.
January 20th – Then, as if by magic, the light appeared to save my soul.
Or at least, that’s how it felt.
I set out early on a frosty morning I wasn’t prepared for, and had a few interesting moments on black ice. But there was one notable feature as I rode to Darlaston at the same time as every other day this week – The sky, gently lightening to the east. It filled my heart with hope – and the roofs of Darlaston looked gorgeous against a bright dawn. This was much more like it.
Mid morning, I popped to Telford on a morning beautifully draped in a thin, opalescent mist. From the train it hung low over the countryside and was beautiful, and even the M54 wore it well.
Just as I thought there was no end, a sign of a new beginning. I saw the light, and it was good.
January 16th – As I neared the crest of Shire Oak hill, it was murky and drizzly and the kind of night you really don’t want to be out in.
There wasn’t much traffic, either, which seemed strange – but I did note the model ‘works buses’ – not these days going to Crabtree or the BRD, but shuttling workers back and forth between the Birmingham and Black Country conurbation and Amazon at Rugeley.
These services run seemingly throughout the day and night and I’d love to know more about them.
January 13th – To my further disappointment, when I left work, there was no snow left to speak of, and it was almost warm, but very wet, although not raining. I don’t mind admitting I really love cycling in dramatically cold conditions, and I felt a tiny bit cheated.
But as I rode back down Green Lane and over the Black Cock Bridge, they sky was clearing and a full, mist-shrouded moon hung there. It was impossible not to feel cheered by it.
January 7th – I love inversions, when mist rolls off water low into the air. I don’t see many these days, and certainly none as dramatic as those from my childhood, but the character of the area has changed so much in 40 years that I shouldn’t be surprised, really.
I was out after dark and noticed fleeting, transitory clouds of mist forming over the canal at Silver Street, intensifying, then disappearing. It was stunning.
I tried to photograph them as best I could, but this is really something you have to see first hand…
December 6th – Still cold, and again, a foggy, treacherous ride: I was at Telford early, and the cycleways were wet and dripping with water. The temperature was clearly rising and everything, every surface was saturated, including me.
I really hope this grim spell ends soon.
December 5th – A horrid day to ride, and even worse for taking photos. There was thick, patchy fog and the air was wet, and well below freezing. Every time I took the camera out, the lens fogged up.
The driving was mad, and as I rode down Shire Oak into Brownhills, I felt glad to be near home, soon to be out of the cold and horrible traffic.
Winter has arrived with a vengeance.
November 29th – A dreamy, icy, freezing morning that turned my breath to clouds of steam and air that hurt the back of my throat, all in glorious, glorious hazy sunshine. Utterly beautiful and it’s made me fall in love with winter again.
About time, too.
Jockey Meadows, between Walsall Wood and Sheffield were gorgeous, from the low mist to the horses grazing peacefully; I noted signs had been put up by local police requesting folk keep an eye out for wildlife crime, which is excellent. We all need to be vigilant.
The beauty continued into Walsall where the canals were the same as they ever were; a quiet, glorious commuting byway.
I’m so lucky to live here and be able to enjoy it.
November 11th – I had to go to Telford, and bruised but a lot more careful, I popped over midmorning on a beautiful day right on the cusp of autumn and winter.
The surprisingly strong sun melted the frost and suffused Telford with a beautiful, sunlit mist that made even the railway look beautiful.
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