Tag: rain

March 9th – Somehow without noticing, I have managed to slip the camera into 16:9 widescreen aspect, which takes me back ten years to using my first Panasonic camera, the peculiar little DMC-LX2 which was native 16:9 widescreen. That camera was limited, but bombproof, and I used it for years. I never quite loved it, but we had a close relationship.

It had been a wet commute home from Shenstone Station, and having to call into Stonnall I took the backlanes. The accidental 16:9 really suited the atmosphere: Although pre-sunset, it was dark, foreboding and grim.

But mercifully, also warm.

Spring seems reluctant to reveal herself this year.

February 13th – A horrid, windy, wet day and nipping out in the afternoon on lan errand from work, I passed through Kings Hill Park just as the rain stopped.

Everywhere is sodden, this winter’s weather has been awful. But the flowers here are showing and everything is just waiting for warmth and sun.

Including me. Patience.

February 3rd – I headed back up the canal, but unusually, got off at Clayhanger Bridge and headed back up through the village because the towpath was so slippery and unridable – note here, It is almost one continuous puddle.

From the bridge looking towards Walsall Wood, I could hear the violent thrash of water cascading down the canal overflow behind me. The lower meadow on Clayhanger Common will flood soon, I think, and the Tame will be running high too. 

I’ve chronicled some bad weather on this journal over the seven years it’s been running – we’ve had some bad winters and bad summers. But I’ve never known a January this cold and wet.

There had better be a decent spring coming…

February 3rd – A day without rain would be nice. So nice.

It rained all day, and I barely left the house; I had technical difficulties with some work equipment that kept me busy on a fool’s errand most of the afternoon, before it turned out the problem was not mine at all.

I got nothing done. I felt low and troubled and realised that although physically better, I’m still recovering and have the post-illness blues. I’m sure you know how it goes – you still have some climbing to do and the daily grind hasn’t stopped for you to hop back on and catch up.

I had to nip up Walsall Wood in the early evening on an errand. I got wet, it was cold and I felt every pedal stroke.

I know everything will improve, and I’ll slip back into the daily rhythm soon. But right now I feel spare and down.

January 29th – I got to work, then it rained. It had not been a great morning – then I realised I needed to pop down to the retail park at Junction 9. I took a short cut through a glistening, dripping Kings Hill Park.

Jack in the Green has tapped his cane upon the ground, and you can almost hear the shoots and buds straining to get up and into bloom.

Watching over it all, the resplendent, shining converted chapel, looking splendid in it’s temporary shiny jacket.

Despite the rain, I was filled with joy and optimism for a new season just starting.

January 1st – Something odd has happened and I haven’t really register why. 

As I passed the canal overflow at CLayhanger Bridge in the darkness, I noticed it was very noisy indeed, and that the canal was really full and overtopping considerably. 

I find this puzzling – we’ve had a fair bit of rain, but not that much, surely? Or have I missed it all?

When the overflow is running at full blast it’s a lovely noise and a fascinating thing, almost hypnotic to watch.

I just can’t see where all the water’s come from…

December 25th – As I returned towards Brownhills the rain got heavier and heavier. My waterproofs were working well, but it was cold, I couldn’t see due to the rain in my face and everywhere was sodden.

But if felt like the best ride I’d had for ages.

Something about the harsh weather, darkness and wind mingled, and made me feel alive.

December 25th – Happy Christmas. My goodness, that was a long time coming…

I was away in daylight at a family do and didn’t get chance for the traditional Christmas Day Ride; this wasn’t really to bad as my shoulder was still stiff and the weather was wolfish and blustery.

I returned in the evening, and went for a spin in heavy rain. I don’t know why, perhaps it was a reaction to the enforced socialising, but I had on waterproofs and just rode for all I was worth; out via Ogley Hay, up Chasetown High Street, over to Sankey’s Corner, back over Chasewater and up the canal back to Brownhills via Catshill Junction.

Obviously, the photography opportunities were not copious, but I thought the lights of the Sankeys Corner Christmas tree in aid of Stephen Sutton were beautiful in the wet night.

November 7th – Long, long before the wonderful John Cooper Clarke was a sort of cult national treasure doing voice overs for oven chip adverts, he observed the everyday diesel spill on wet tarmac and made it chilling.

‘Revenge is not enough
There’s a dead canary on a swivel seat
There’s a rainbow in the road
Meanwhile on Beasley Street
Silence is the code’

I find easy, cheesy, greasy, queasy, beastly Beasley Street still chilling and an absolute classic, and after hearing it 30 odd years ago, I never looked at the urban terrace street in the same way again – including oil slicks flowing down the Darlaston Road and catching the light.

John Cooper Clark is one of the best performance poets Britain has ever had.

November 7th – I made a terrible decision to nip out mid morning on an call to the Solicitor. While I was there, the rain started, and returning to Darlaston in very heavy rain, I slipped onto the canal for respite from the traffic.

I sheltered under a bridge for a while, listening to the music of the rain on water, before realising the futility of it, cried Geronimo! And dashed for work, scattering the otherwise contented geese in my wake.

‘Did the big girls push you in the cut again, Bob?’ was the piss-taking call that greeted me on my return, drenched…