August 9th – Kings Hill Park is looking very weather- worn at the moment. At the beginning of the hot spell, the planters were cleared for new flowers, but it was clearly felt that planting out new bedding plants might be a waste in the heatwave, so since early summer we’ve had to be content with the noble greens and golds of a hot, dry season.
This little oasis is still beautiful however, and a welcome refuge from the hectic day at work, providing me with a nearby place where I can take five, rest and enjoy peace and quiet.
It’s a lovely little park, whatever the season or time of year.
June 14th – On the way to work on a warm but windy and wolfish Thursday, I stopped to look back down the canal I’d just ridden along. It’s so green and verdant now, sow beautifully limpid and peaceful. Hard to imagine that a few short weeks ago this was barren and grey, and soon enough it will return to the dormant, winter state.
Bless the summer, bless the green, bless the weather.
December 30th – While ferreting around the canal and Clayhanger Common for a decent night shot (and failing to find anything at all) I noticed this lovely, sedate and peaceful waterside retreat: At the canalised behind the houses of Lindon View, a bench, table and light, right by the canal.
How lovely is that?
April 28th – On my return, I needed fresh air so shot out around the canal and common at dusk.
It was one of those evenings when the sky was a sort of luminous blue, and it was really quite still.
I love how eerie the canal and particularly the old cement works bridge at the Slough is at this time of day. Just the tonic after a very hectic day.
October 15th – I returned to Brownhills late in the afternoon when it was again pouring with rain. This wasn’t everyday, lacklustre drizzle; this was dense, heavy rain that squeezed in through any not-quite-close zip or gap, and rendered me soaked.
Once again, I found myself taking a breather on a bridge, just listening to the music – a rattling percussion, accompanied be geese honking happily.
Brownhills, you ain’t no looker; but that’s OK neither am I. But I do love you. Even on the horrid days like these.