November 15th – Whilst Pelsall had been grey, the encroaching night made everything slate blue when I popped into Brownhills for shopping. Still raining gently, it was quite still and the canal here fascinates me at dusk.
An oddly inspiring day, really.
November 15th – By rights, I should have felt miserable. At work early in the morning, still dog tired and sleep deprived on a dreadfully damp, murky day. But I headed over to Pelsall to catch up with a friend mid afternoon, and the colours in the grey mist were actually brilliant. There was an eerie, otherworldly quality to Green and Mob lanes, still in their autumnal jackets; on my return via Ryders Mere and the old railway, the marsh was ghostly, silent and deserted.
An unexpectedly good ride on what would otherwise have been a horrid day for it. You never can tell.
October 12th – It was a beautiful misty morning, and there was nothing for it but to head off for a ride. I couldn’t go far, so settled for a spin around Chasewater. It was gorgeous. From the mist lifting from the canal to the cobwebs on the bridge rail, everything was precious. But the sun was warm, and soon, a tipping point was reached: the mist disappeared in about 10 minutes, to reveal a beautiful sunny autumn day.
Good to see the valves finally closed, too: Chasewater has been quite low of late and it would be good to see it fill up a little.
October 10th – As I cycled down Green Lane past Jockey Meadows, my sight was snagged by something luminous. I pulled on the anchors and doubled back. An inversion was occurring over the water meadow, and it was beautiful.
An inversion occurs when a layer of colder air in contact with the ground is trapped by warmer air above it, when normally, the reverse occurs. This traps mist in a low blanket in the cooler layer.
A full-on inversion is a sight to behold; mist streams off the surface of any water and clings low to the ground. I’ve not seen a good one for a long while, and this was minor, and seemed localised. But it gave a wonderfully haunting aura to a familiar spot.
Hopefully, we may get more soon, and this is the warmup act…
May 23rd – A horrid day. Rainy, wet, and the warm summer air seems to have left us for a while. I slipped out in the evening to Mill Green to run an errand, and coming over Shire Oak, stopped at the quarry gates to capture my familiar muse in the murk.
A horrid, headache grey day. I didn’t feel great, either. Summer, come back soon, please…
April 3rd – The poor air quality brouhaha at the moment isn’t all hype. As a chap given to a degree of sinus trouble, it’s hell out there at the moment. There’s an appreciable wind, and the air isn’t wet like in normal mist; yet it feels oxygen-less, like being stuck in an unventilated house with the heating on. It makes me feel breathless faster, and stings my eyes, as well as causing a blocked nose.
I’ve never experienced days like these before. I’m used to traffic fumes in the city in high summer, and the effect it has on my hayfever, but I’ve never seen this before.
The New Ring Road in Walsall looked ethereal and grey, even dystopian. But I did notice one thing; that’s a fine weathervane on the roof of the old Workhouse Guardians office, there.
March 25th – The commute to work had been wet and quite, quite horrid, but the wind was more or less favourable. The roads were greasy, the traffic was mad. It wasn’t a hugely enjoyable journey.
Later in the morning, I felt rather ill, and was resigning myself to getting a lift home if I didn’t feel better. Thankfully, sweet tea, a lie down and some food sorted me out, but on leaving work during a break in the rain, I just floored it and sped home as fast as I could. I just wanted to be back, safe and sound in the dry and warm.
I noticed in Green Lane near Jockey Meadows the mist was rising off the marsh, and everywhere was sodden again. This is one of the very few places in life I find intimidating in it’s desolation. I felt it this evening. I have no idea why it makes me feel like this.
I took a photo, then pressed on homewards.
January 20th – It was an awful day for travelling (and work generally, really). I went a long way on a fools errand, and on my return, got tangled up in travel chaos on the Cross City line.
In between, however, the day was misty, bright and cold with a beautiful frost. Sadly, I spend most of my cycling time dashing late from one place to another and didn’t get chance to take many pictures.
I’d like a few more days like this if possible…
January 12th – The day, which had started beautifully, turned to grey murkiness before I got free. The mechanical issues of the previous day were still dogging the bike as I headed out to Chasewater. The canal was quiet, but Chasewater itself, surprisingly busy. A light mist dwelled in the air, and drizzle came and went.
I notice the lake is mage 50-60mm off full again; just as it was at this time last year. I’m wondering if they’ll let it overflow again, maybe as a test. Perhaps the lake is just being used as a storm buffer for a while.
Fly Creek, where the boardwalk crosses is flooded, but the steps are currently being rebuilt anyway, so probably best not go that way for a while. Crossing it on a bike was fun.
I came back over the common, which is showing evidence of wind damage. I also noted that the conifer saplings are still growing and choking the heather on the heath. Let’s hope removing those is a priority for the heathland management work to come.
October 3rd – I set out for work a little early on a murky, misty, wet autumn morning, and realised as I sped down the Chester Road that it was oddly photogenic. I decided to take a diversion and spun up to Shenstone, and grabbed some pictures as the season began to turn the leaves.
It worked rather well, I thought. It’s unseasonably warm right now, but I’ve got the feeling we’re on the verge of some really dramatic colours. I think this one could be worth keeping an eye on…
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