Tag: monday

#365daysofbiking By my own hand

April 13th – Easter Monday was colder. Quite bitter, in fact, so I did essential maintenance on the bikes and pottered at home, before shooting out for a late spin up the canal to test the bike out.

At Clayhanger Common the cowslips are fully in bloom now and the sight of them fill me with pride – as I scattered the seeds that formed these colonies a fair few years ago now. I collected the seed heads from a patch in Stonnall and spread the seed at various spots on Clayhanger Common, not expecting them to take hold.

But they did.

I then used seeds from those patches to expand and create new ones elsewhere on the common.

And now, they’re all over it.

Something I will always be proud of.

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#365daysofbiking Positivity

November 4th – I’m not a religious man at all, but parking the bike in Brownhills on a Monday Morning errand, this charmed and amused me.

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#365daysofbiking 1000 shades of grey

August 27th – I was not really any better, and with a keen wind and grey skies I didn’t go far, just a loop of Chasewater.

The North Heath is beautiful at the moment and I don’t spend nearly enough time up here these days: The heather is beautifully purple and despite the murk, there is a lot of greenery and colour.

But still, the day was damp and grey.

July 13th – I headed to work on a sodden, rainy, wet Monday morning. It was a hard ride in humid conditions, when waterproofs leave you wetter from sweat than the rain they shield you from.

Pausing for a breather in Darlaston, I spotted the snowberry bushes in flower, spotted with raindrops. They captivated me.

September 24th – The bad evening predicated a bad morning; it was one of the worst commutes weather-wise I’d had for years. Thanks to a tipoff early on twitter by Aiden MacHaffie, I knew before I left that trains on the Cross City were shafted, and my journey would therefore have to start at Walsall. Heading to Tyseley in heavy rain, the usually assortment of bad weather bad drivers made themselves painfully evident. The trains were rammed, and by the time I found myself waiting at Moor Street, I was wet, chilly and down in the dumps. I don’t know so much about autumn, someone seems to have left the door open and winter wandered in. Ugh.

August 20th – Leicester again today, and South Wigston station – usually a place of vague, unfocused hatred for me, continues to surprise and delight. Last time it was roses and foxgloves. This time, sweet peas, I think. Just growing wild on a patch of unloved scrub, wildflowers and weeds being beautiful, for no other reason than to attract bees and make me realise what a fine country I live in.

A Monday morning delight to the soul.