December 3rd – So enjoying the tailwind, I let it blow me to Walsall Wood, where I noted they have an excellent Christmas tree again this year, which I think is funded by local Tory councillors.
I’m by no means a Conservative, but respect to them for this act of generosity.
When I see the tree at Walsall Wood, I know Christmas is just around the corner. It’s one of the milestones of the season for me. A lovely thing indeed.
December 3rd – I went to work on a grey, threatening, but mostly dry morning, against a steady, but not harsh headwind. There was heavy rain and a gale forecast – so serious, a public Christmas light turn-on event and market had been cancelled in Walsall.
I missed the worst of the rain, and it merely spotted a bit as the wind blew me home. I averaged 19MPH – only the traffic lights stopped me. A remarkable journey in what is also unusually warm weather.
This year has been a bit strange meteorologically.
December 2nd – I came through Walsall early evening, having resolved to pay more attention to the place after yesterday taking pictures in the Civic Quarter. Tonight, I noted how nice the Christmas lights were this year, and how for once, we had a decent Christmas tree.
Although we seem to be hurtling towards Christmas at a rate of knots at the moment, I haven’t felt very festive so far – until tonight.
Of course, Christmas means the winter solstice and the end of the darkening days, and the start of another season’s promise.
I’ll have some of that.
December 1st – Coming through Walsall early evening was oddly festive. Although I loathe the striped paving and out of place lighting columns, I love the ‘Civic Quarter’ at night.
Such a combination of architecture, surface, artificial light and mature urbanness. A very photogenic, under appreciated corner of Walsall.
November 30th – New Street again, but early morning feelings rather than late night ones. Seven in the morning, steady rain, not yet clear of the night before.
Something about the light, machinery, wet urban surfaces, overhead wires and signals spoke quietly of urban strength, reassurance, safety, control. Alpha Tower in the distance stood as a fixing to location.
My feelings towards this place are ambivalent these days. But this morning, on the darkest and most miserable of days, something beautiful happened and it took my breath away.
It’s what Birmingham does, and I suspect has always done.
November 24th – Working very late, I returned sapped of mental energy. I got as far as the Black Cock Bridge before realising I’d not taken any photos. So, as an excuse to have a breather probably more than anything, I quickly took this.
It was indeed, a bright moonlit night. But the source of the curious light was a car on the far side of this precarious bridge.
I was glad to be homeward bound.
November 21st – A late spin around Brownhills after a long day, and at night this place still fascinates me. The lines of Silver Court are still otherworldly and night, and the vies of the canal from the Pier Street Bridge are ones I keep returning to.
After a grinding day, it’s good to be home.
November 19th – At the other end of a crowded journey, the barren beauty of Walsall Station at night from Platform 1. Vaguely brutal 70s red brick architecture, vanishing points, extreme perspective, lights, hard surfaces and a little rain.
It’s that late night feelings thing again.
You can keep your Grand Central new New Street. I’d rather have this, any day of the week.
November 19th – The Queen herself today travelled to Birmingham (by train, which won’t have been delayed and will have had a working toilet) to open a station that hadn’t closed and has merely been subject to having a retail opportunity badly assembled on top, and is still unfinished.
Brenda won’t have had to walk up a static escalator, or pull a pushchair up the stairs. She won’t have seen the dingy, grim end of platforms where the 1980s access bridge hasn’t even been granted a clean down.
Someone once said that Royalty must think everywhere smells of fresh paint. In Birmingham tonight, on a late journey from home, the overpowering smell was more reminiscent of the farmyard.
Oh, and Phil – we do speak English. Chances are Shakespeare would sound more like our tongue than the fabricated received English of the Windsors (and spousal attachments).
November 18th – A tough journey to work in a gusty headwind the morning after severe gales blew through. My earlier than usual return home, however was again assisted, so much so that I forgot I had to call in to pick something up in Aldridge. As I trundled up a very wet canal towpath on my errand, it was a very atmospheric sunset. That horse weathervane at Bullings Heath fascinates me.
Also interesting – and now becoming visible due to the leaf-fall – are the industrial yards and excavations near the canal at Stubbers Green, including the brickworks. I still find the scent of firing bricks peculiar.
Getting used to a new camera, too. Quite impressed with this one. Let’s hope the weather settles for a bit now.
BrownhillsBob's #365daysofbiking 