Tag: quiet

October 16th – Still, one can’t deny the beauty of the season. A far more positive ride out over the Chase, into that open, cinematic landscape where it’s hard not to feel utterly connected to the surroundings. The leaves and bracken are turning and it really is beautiful out there. 

The chilliness of the day also kept a lot of folk at home and it was a lot more peaceful than during the summer. That’s the first time I’ve seen Stepping Stones deserted for ages.

I came back over the Shugborough Estate and noted that while it’s changing custodians from Staffordshire County Council to the National Trust, there’s an awful end-of-days, deserted, unloved feel to the place. Sad, really, as autumn is the best time of year to see it.

The heron, fishing in the river by the Packhorse Bridge seemed oblivious, though…

November 15th –  A long day and a late spin around Brownhills. The town was quiet, and there was no sign of the Christmas I’d seen in Birmingham the previous Friday. It was windy, but not too bad. Stood on a quiet traffic island, Morris Miner was still stood silent, metallic sentry.

Sometimes the most changeless things are best.

August 20th – had o nip on an errand, and left during daylight, and returned at dusk. On both outward and return, I crossed the old cement works bridge.

I took a photo towards Pelsall on my way out, and a photo towards Brownhills on my way back.

I don’t know why, but I’m fascinated by the change in light and atmosphere.

July 20th – It was a fast, damp ride home, and the light was terrible – thoroughly uninspiring. It was warm rain though, and quite pleasant once I stop resisting and accepted I was going to get wet. 

How nice, thought, to stand on a quiet canal, with no noise from people or traffic, and just listen to the music of raindrops on the water.

Even on the greyest days, they’re something to enjoy.

June 12th – Whilst I like the flexibility of the Sony HX90, the photos so far have left me underwhelmed. They’re not bad, they just seem to lack a bit of zing: but then, the light yesterday was very very poor on my way home, and perhaps I’m not being fair to it.

I had business in Aldridge, so hopped on the canal there and rode back along the dreaming green waterway in a curious, tense stillness that seemed to be flexing its muscles for a storm. 

The storm never came.

October 13th – It rained heavily all the way home, and with a driving headwind it really wasn’t a pleasant journey at all. I hopped on the canal in Walsall Wood to escape the mad traffic, and stopped at Catshill Junction to have a breather as I often do. It was quiet, except for the music of rain falling on water. There was not a soul around, and even the houses in Chandlers Keep looked deserted. 

I was wet, cold and tired, but you couldn’t hate it like this. This was a moment of unexpected peace in a very grim day.

I got back on my bike, and rode home.

January 21st – Another day of challenging weather. Showers, wind, bluster. Just as well I had stuff to do in the daytime and wasn’t feeling that a cycling opportunity was lost because of my other commitments. Spinning out for a lazy bimble round at 6pm, I spun up through Clayhanger, and thought how dark and quiet the village looked so early on a Saturday night. Clayhanger has always had a slightly Midwich-ish, cutoff air about it, being a wee island in the middle of urban greenspace, but tonight it felt quite distinct. Odd.