March 17th  – Something interesting will happen between today and tomorrow. Thanks to the GPS based bike computer I use these days, I’ve been keeping an eye on sunrise and sunset times to measure the progress of the seasons. Today, the daylight will be just shorter than the night; by tomorrow, the day will be longer by about the same.

This is effectively the spring equinox – when day and night are equal length of 12 hours. This isn’t quite the astronomical equinox, which this year occurs on the 20th, but it’s good enough for me. 

Another milestone of the changing seasons and the ascent from darkness.

December 10th – Can’t ever remember a winter passing this quickly. It doesn’t seem ten minutes ago since shirtsleeves and sun; but today – unusually heading through Pelsall to Walsall due to a necessary call on the way – winter had arrived in full force. The second day of a headwind forged on Satan’s back step, it was relentless and drained my energy.

As was pointed out to me, it’s only a matter of a week and a half until the solstice – and then, opening out again. I dreaded the darkening this year, but somehow, thankfully, the usually associated black dog didn’t ride pillion. The relief of this has uplifted me through the darkness.

Pelsall Common reminded me of Joni Mitchell ‘Shivering trees standing in naked rows’ – but hey, it’ll be Bryter Layter.

And so, the season’s wheel advances inexorably on, with me in a surprisingly good humour for the time of year. I think someone must be slipping happy pills into my tea…

July 23rd – in the Goscote Valley on my way to work, as the day started to warm up, I was drawn to a continual crackling sound. This always fascinates me; it’s the sound of gorse pods popping open with a snap, and scattering their seeds.

The action is induced by the warmth of the sun, and makes for an interesting diversion on the way to work. I love how the pods rattle musically when you shake the bushes, too.

It’s the little things that make summer, really.