Christmas Eve – Returning to the High Street the lights looked good and it was surprisingly busy for late on a Christmas Eve.
Brownhills has seemed a lot busier this year – I think it’s the new housing – and going for a coffee the cafe was quite busy too. It’s nice to see a little recovery.
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#365daysofbiking Sweet James:
Christmas Eve – Last minute tasks took me to Brownhills, and up to Ogley Hay. As I passed St James Church the night sky was deep blue and the lights were on as people prepared inside the church for the evening service to come.
I’m not Christian and I’m not religious, but I love church architecture – it fascinates me, and I like Brownhills’ parish church – despite the atrocious extension, it’s a lovely, working class design, built in 1850 and still going strong.
Merry Christmas folks.
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December 22nd – Returning to Leeds to get a bit of shopping and meet old pals for a meal, a wander thought the Christmas Market in its last hour was surreal and the city lights beautiful and fascinating.
I was captivated by the office block with the rotating messages in huge, illuminated lettering. I guess brutalist offices need love too.
Father Christmas was spotted making his way through the crowds at Leeds Station – I have no idea who he was, where he was going or anything – but he played it straight and had a lasting effect on my companion. Beautiful.
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December 21st – I came from work, then needed to head to Lichfield with a companion for some urgent Christmas shopping. Lichfield at 5pm on this Friday evening was quiet, peaceful and very atmospheric. Almost Dickensian, in fact.
The only troubling thing was those creepy Nutcracker figures dotted about town. I find their style unsettling and always have; I know they’re a traditional German thing but to me, they really are the stuff of nightmares.
Amplified to life-size and they are really quite unpleasant in my opinion.
Lovely photographic subjects, though…
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December 20th – A late night at work finishing off, then the Christmas party. I crossed Rushall Square junction late in the evening.
As ever, the lights were lovely and there was hardly anyone on the road, which was a bonus.
Christmas is feeling closer now…
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December 19th – Recovery, and finally getting things done. Catching up with stuff, then Christmas shopping in Brum with good companions.
Every year I say I won’t do the Christmas Market again, but every year I do and I always fall for the lights, the pricey but tasty food and the atmosphere.
Birmingham is still changing as it has been since I first came here 40 years ago. I love this city. I adore it’s quirks and festive foibles.
A great evening rounded off with excellent saag paneer and lamb tikka on the Soho Road.
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December 18th – It was hard to find a point to take a photo from that wouldn’t be spoiled by rain on the lens, and then I remembered the dystopian, alien-like portal in Silver Court.
The ghostly glow is from a cashpoint. It fascinates me.
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December 18th – I’d been in hospital for medical tests, which went OK. I came home, uncomfortable, headachy and disorientated, but a cup of tea, some food and peace and quiet and I was ready to ride.
Sadly it was still raining heavily.
In a short spin around Brownhills the bike was coated in mud and I noted the overflows were in spate. It’s really been quite wet the last week and it’s not registered quite how bad it’s been.
Some dry, cold weather would be nice for Christmas I think…
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December 17th – Returning home through a darkened, very wet Brownhills. A generator was quietly ticking over by the waterside, and there was the clatter of Tesco unloading, and the distant windy sweep of the odd car on the High Street, but little other evidence of humans.
Brownhills looked somnambulant, peaceful and homely, and it was good to see.
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#365daysofbiking That sinking feeling:
December 13th – Struggling up the Black Cock Bridge due to tiredness and another late night at work, my phone rang and I stopped to answer by the junction with Hall Lane.
This little, discrete hamlet was years ago called Bullings Heath and sitting in the lee of the bridge flank, there are many legends about the subsidence here caused by minewovrkings below.
Whilst there was sinking, it wasn’t a bad as purported, and these things generally never are, but legends persist and they suggest the houses on the left were once level with the canal.
Tonight, Bullings Heath nestled in the darkness, and was keeping it’s secrets to itself, and looking for all the world like a somnambulant, rural hamlet.
A historic conundrum.
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BrownhillsBob's #365daysofbiking 