Tag: morris

#365daysofbiking Hello darkness my old friend

August 26th – it was a dreadful, wet day and I still wasn’t well. I was busy at home with things that had needed doing for ages, and I slipped out after dark for a spin around a dripping, sodden town.

I hate this weekend, every year; it’s OK if the weather’s good and you can ride, but if it’s grey and horrible it’s so depressing. It always feels like the end of summer, even if it’s nowhere near.

Riding was actually good, and the somnambulant town was quiet in the gathering night. With the new houses, Church Road is probably the most atmospheric it’s been for years, and Coppice lane wears it’s loneliness like an old jacket.

Still can’t get a night photo of Morris I’m happy with, though…

April 2nd – The Easter Monday bank holiday was foul – it rained, was cold, windy and overcast and so I busied myself with some technical website stuff, and doing bike maintenance. I slipped out late in the rainy evening for a quiet, reflective circuit of Brownhills, and tried my hand with Morris and the Canon camera again. The street lights are problematic and I just can’t get the image I want at the moment.

Ah well, another evening, perhaps.

January 6th – Getting better with the Canon. Actually beginning to like it, which is something I thought I’d never say. That’s a bit sad, as the TZ100 is clearly a cracking piece of kit too and deserves further exploration. I think in a week I’ll take that out exclusively and learn about it.

I was in Brownhills late, collecting a takeaway. Brownhills was quiet, sleepy and I had the peace and quiet to try again at some shots I thought I’d fudged before. This camera is odd – it really isn’t that great at Morris, as the zoom isn’t there I think, but the classic Anchor Bridge night scene was a boster. I also liked what it did with the Commutiy and Parkview Centres. 

Brownhills at night has some really great pictures. Get your camera out and explore.

January 2nd – I’ll start this with a note about time, and the passing thereof; long time readers will know I started this journal on 1st April 2011after being egged on to do 30daysofbiking by ace cyclist and top Dutchperson Renee Van Baar. Sadly, I was very ill with food poisoning the following New Year,  so never rode a bike on 31st December 2011, and 1st January 2012. But I carried on, and I never missed a day since. Every day from 2nd January 2012 I have got on a bike and ridden somewhere. From 100 mile plus rides in one day, to trundles to the shop, I have recorded my daily life as a cyclist, in all it’s ups and downs. That’s 6 years, or 2192 successive days (including 2 leap years), and about 55,000 miles.

I love keeping this journal, I love writing it, and finding the photos.

I welcome feedback. If you have something to say – that I should stop, continue or do something differently, please get in touch by commenting or mailing me – BrownhillsBob at Googlemail dot com.

I’ve done this to show that it’s possible to be normal, and on a bike. That a podgy, middle aged man who’s not a lycra fiend can ride to work, shops, for fun, to explore, keep healthy, be happy, enthusiastic, jaded, sad or depressed, and continue rolling down the road.

In the six years, I’ve had at least 10 different cameras to use, maybe more, actually. Some I’ve adored, some I hated. The Canon GX 7 Mark II I’m using at the moment is like Jekyl and Hyde. It was really good in the night shots of the last couple of journeys, but tonight’s attempt – a simple shot of Morris – it seemed to fudge a bit.

On the camera, the jury is still out.

I’ll need to ride and use it a bit more to find out…

December 10th – I continued from Chasewater up around Engine Lane and down to old railway trail to the old cement works bridge overlooking the council depot, where gritters and ploughs were coming and going in a constant stream.

There was a lot of angst on social media about grit, road treatment and ploughing, and as ever, I felt particularly for the poor folk doing this hard, almost thankless task.

Elsewhere, the swans weren’t bother by the cold from what I could tell, and Morris seemed happy with his new white mantel.

Temperatures were dropping as it got dark and it would be interesting to see what happened next day as the freeze deepened.

September 1st – I had to pop out again in the early evening as night fell on an errand, so took in the same loop of the canal I’d done earlier. The moon was high and beautiful, and the sunset again in wonderful lavender purple tones which reflected beautifully off the canal.

Morris Miner, also imperious and more at peace since the road resurfacing finished looked splendid in the gathering night.

I ride far and wide but sometimes the beauty is right there on our doorsteps.

April 29th – I’d been out for a ride late in the afternoon and returned when night had fallen. On a frankly uninspiring photographic day, I spotted Morris, the Brownhills Miner as I came back through town.

I never liked the mix of white and blue lights they chose to illuminate this remarkable sculpture with, but now some of them have burnt out, the lighting looks a lot better: less operating theatre harsh and more industrial darkness, as if Morris was being lit by the ghost light of the welds that created him.

Still love every single stainless steel segment of him (and there are hundreds – just look!)

December 23rd – Further on, I caught Morris Miner and Silver Street in better light than had existed the day before. With the lights on the trees, and the worst of the blue LED light installed to illuminate him failing, the statue looks much better by night, and even as something of Vegas about hime.

The pickaxe still annoys me though.

I note the building works continue at Silver Court Gardens and their lights are already helping to make what can be a very desolate spot just a bit more welcoming.

September 22nd – Also coming out better than expected was Morris, the Brownhills Miner. I often have people grumbling I don’t feature him here often enough, but it’s hard to know what to do with him; Morris has been photographed so often and so well by others, my photos would jut be noise.

I’m very fond of Morris – as a technical achievement, he’s stunning and a wonderful demonstration of Finite Element boundary analysis as a method of solving complex shape resolution. But he’s also that rarity – a civic artwork with soul.

Morris has done very little for Brownhiills. He hasn’t ‘put is on the map’ – we never left it; he hasn’t created jobs or sparked a regeneration.

But what Morris has done is made lots of people smile, and wonder about the history he represents.

Which is worth an awful lot in my book.