Tag: night photography

January 16th – A terrible, awful, wet commuting day. I got wet on may way to work, wet mid day when visiting a customer, and wet on my way back. The bike is so damp, when it catches the light it has it’s own rainbow.

I came back unusually to Blake Street, as the train I was on didn’t serve Shenstone, and it was just to horrid to come from Four Oaks up that hill. I stood at the top of the steps – the ramp is a long way up the platform, and the steps are quicker – and in that moment it struck me how odd they are. Open with no roof, they descend into a passageway under the railway. Painted cream and well lit, it’s like they once had a roof, and it was removed.

I wonder…?

January 13th – To my further disappointment, when I left work, there was no snow left to speak of, and it was almost warm, but very wet, although not raining. I don’t mind admitting I really love cycling in dramatically cold conditions, and I felt a tiny bit cheated.

But as I rode back down Green Lane and over the Black Cock Bridge, they sky was clearing and a full, mist-shrouded moon hung there. It was impossible not to feel cheered by it.

January 10th – It seems the old Oak Park is finally coming down – after a sizeable fire in the derelict building last week, the council have at last acted decisively and it seems we will soon be rid of the old building and the antisocial behaviour it’s encouraging.

Built in 1974, it’s a bland, post Brutalist structure in pale block, but like many, I have memories here, and although we have a great new centre not 100 yards away, the change is tinged with just a little sadness.

It’ll be interesting to watch the building come down.

January 10th – Sadly, my commuting life right now isn’t terribly varied. I’m seeing a lot of dark urbanity, stations, later and earlier. Apologies. Finding variance in a busy January when you don’t see much daylight is always hard.

Passing through Birmingham New Streetin the evening, I found myself at the same platform as the steel horse sculpture that forms the first in a chain of 12 along the line side to Wolverhampton. 

Erected in 1987 and designed by Kevin Atherton, the Iron Horse project put similar horses in different motion positions alongside an urban railway line, to appear as if the train you were on was losing a race with a horse. Some jump, some buck, canter or trot. They are warm, lifelike, and softly amusing.

They have fared well and not dated, and are one of the great curiosities of Birmingham and the Black Country.

January 8th – Still periodically bouncing the strange bike to test the forks, I took it up Catshill Bridge to try it over the drop on the way back down. When up there, I realised the low cloud was making for interesting colour in the night sky, so set the camera on the parapet and let it do it’s thing.

Not a bad picture, really. Streetlights have a lot to answer for…

January 8th – A miserable day, to be quite honest. I’d had plans, but I awoke late, and by the time I’d got the day’s jobs finished, the weather had turned drizzly, wet and unpleasant, and my plans for an afternoon riding over to north Warwickshire were lost.

I slipped out as dusk fell on a test ride, instead: I had stuff to do in Walsall Wood and Aldridge, and after a weekend monkeying with a bike with suspension, getting the damping control and lockout sorted, it needed testing, which was a good excuse for some restorative exertion.

On my way back, I passed Aldridge Marina, which looked rather wonderful in the thinniest, most insubstantial of mists. The combination of that, sodium light and woodsmoke made the scene magical.

Not a lost day, by any means, but not one I enjoyed much.

January 4th – it has been a temperate commute in the morning, spoiled only by ten minutes of rain, but it felt reasonable for first day back, but in the evening my return was a shock. Not dressed for sub-zero temperatures, and on a bike without ice tyres, I gingerly picked my way through lanes and backstreets chilly and nervous.

That’s the trouble with having time off; you need to sharpen your commuting game on your return, because you get out of the habit.

January 2nd – Well, this is it – the fifth anniversary of my continual cycling. Every day for the past five years – that’s 1827 consecutive days (2 leap years, don’t forget) – I’ve got on my bike and rode it. Maybe to work, maybe to the shops, or on a long ride. Often, when commuting, I ride more than once.

Of course, this isn’t the anniversary of the journal – I actually started in April 2011 as my contribution to 30daysofbiking, egged on by the lovely Rene Van Barr; but a dodgy pie laid me low with campylobacter at new year 2012 and I missed two days. So I started the clock again.

I believe I’ve shown it’s possible to ride a bike in all conditions, to all manner of places, and still find interesting stuff both local and distant.

I’ve got to the point where doing this is part of my daily routine, and I enjoy it – so I intend to continue. If you think it’s stale, old, or uninteresting, please tell me so, and I’ll consider your views.

I do enjoy sharing the ride, and love that people seem interested. I love being able to show you the things I find – like tonight, we passed through Fazeley Junction in the dark, and the Weighmaster’s house, old mill and beautiful moon – photographed by balancing the camera at full zoom on the bridge coping stones and leaving it on timer – made for wonderful, seasonal photos.

Thanks for having this odd little journal in your life. For everything I do online, this is probably the most heartfelt.

January 1st – I wasn’t well, and didn’t go far. Not overindulgence from the previous evening – I partook of no alcohol at all on New Year’s Eve – but the recurring IBS I sometimes get, thankfully very rarely these days.

I was also drowning under a sea of paperwork I had to complete for work, which always drives me mad. At least the day was wet, so I didn’t miss good riding time…

I spun up Walsall Wood on an errand, and hopped off the canal at Hollander’s Bridge and took a quick shot of Binary Mews. It still disappoints me that the addresses here don’t go 1,10,11,100,101 etc…

Passing St. John’s, I forgot to note this year that the Christmas tree in the Churchyard – donated as it always is by the local councillors – was looking splendid this year with a new set of coloured lights. The generosity of the politicians is noted, and appreciated.

I welcome 2017, and a return to normality. When my stomach settles, of course.