Setember 5th – Tyseley, about 6:30pm, heading for Darlaston. There was a soft sun, combining with city haze, smog and no wind. The shapes of the city looked gorgeous. I’d forgotten over the summer that it could look like this. I was tired – blitzed, to be honest – but this pulled me up short. I don’t think anyone else noticed.
I love this city. This place. This moment in time. The rooftops, spires, tower blocks, chimneys. It felt like the city was mine. It’s nice when that happens.
August 27th – Is it late summer or early autumn? My dilemma over the seasons continues. I guess we’re in the interregnum now. Cycling back through the lanes of Stonnall this evening, It was hazy and warm, with a light, barely perceptible mist the sun had been unable to burn off. The fields looked gorgeous, and I was fascinated by the impromptu parliament on the overhead lines.
Who cares what season it is? It’s beautiful.
March 8th – There’s not much, photographically, you can do with a day like this, except record it as it was. For the second day running, it was wet and foggy. The traffic was still acting strange, and I was glad to get home. It’s not really cold, and the cycling was surprisingly good due to the still conditions – but the flat, grey outlook, devoid of decent light, is relentless.
Please, spring, come back! What on earth did I do to scare you off?
March 5th – A beautiful, late winter/early spring day. I left when the morning fog was thick and cold, and headed to Telford. As I got nearer the station, the mist was gradually burned off by the sun. I came back to Tyseley later, and it seemed the colour of the day was gold. The mist lingered, and made for beautiful skylines.
This spring thing? I think it could be a goer…
February 19th – A beautiful, sunny, frosty winter morning. I love days like this. It was cold, but the warmth in the sun was tangible, and felt good on my shoulders. In Little Aston, mist quivered in the hollows, before being burnt up in the sun.
A great start to the day.
January 22nd – A gorgeous morning. It was bitterly cold, but the sun was out, and small patches of mist hovered in the hollows. Today, it was a real joy to be cold, on such a fine winter’s day. The road through Mill Green was challenging, but better.
I couldn’t think of anywhere finer than here and now.
January 9th – I’d been working indoors all day, and ended up working late. I’d not seen the sky or daylight since 9:15am, so when I sped away from work at 8pm, I was shocked to find Birmingham wearing a low, thin mist. As I headed northwards home, the mist thickened, until, upon alighting the train at Shentone, I realised it was quite a serious fog. It was patchy, and in the country lanes through Stonnall, in places very dense indeed. I rode on my nerves, straining to look for headlights or unseen hazards, water vapour condensing in my hair and on my face.
Riding in heavy fog is hard work and uncomfortable. Hope it’s gone by morning…
January 9th – A beautiful morning, really, and although not very cold, after the warm weather of late it felt bitter. The sun shone, at least while I got to work – and everything had a gorgeous softness to it. In the light haze, the railway fascinated with its extended perspective and shine, and the row of terraces that back onto the junction by the station continue to fascinate in their recursion.
Even the Tyseley incinerator – working normally, as it does everyday – looked impressive; it’s water vapour, not usually visible, was forming plumes of steam in the cold air. Magical.
December 11th – It didn’t take long for the mist to settle in, but even that was enjoyable. Just as well, really, as despite the promises of a new dawn, the London Midland train reliability is still lousy, even with the new timetable. 6 out of this week’s 8 trains so far have been late. I still love the sights and views of the railway. I’m not interested particularly in trains, but I love the slightly unreal, meccano landscapes they create, with vividly pronounced perspective, repetition and reflection. I love the impression of distance and connection they create, and of the illusion of solid control, like a huge machine.
The machine is broken, and deserves some love and attention, and a master who loves it, but it’s still a wonderful and oddly beautiful thing.
December 3rd – A great journey to work. When I awoke, it was raining, heavily. But as I left the house, the rain ceased and the sun came out, making for a smooth a fast ride to the station. It felt warm and the wind was at my back. Passing Little Aston church, I noticed the meadow before it was wreathed in mist and looking rather beautiful.
All the time, the sky became more and more gorgeous. This was a great winters day. We’ve had way too few of these so far this season.
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