Tag: rain

October 19th – A day marked by a ludicrously early start and thoroughly wet, rain-sodden homeward darkness commute. The weather really isn’t being kind to me this week.

The riding wasn’t bad, really – they do say drowning is quite pleasurable once you stop fighting it, and I flowed like the rainwater through the streets from Darlaston with an occasionally startling crosswind. Reaching the town centre, I took a short cut past the civic centre. With nobody about and beautifully glistening surfaces, it made for a good night shot.

If the weather-gods are reading this, can I please have some dry, non-windy weather for a short while please? I’d be ever so grateful…

September 30th – A wet, miserable grey day when little went right and I really didn’t feel the love at all. I really needed to be out and get some air, but work was demanding and the conditions not conducive. I’m really missing that Indian summer I was hoping for.

In the early evening gloom with night descending, I popped out on some errands, and spun around Brownhills. In steady rain on the Pier Street bridge, I remembered how beautiful this place is in the darkness of even a wet, grey, loveless evening.

September 10th – A miserable, wet and grey day with high winds kept me hemmed in until late afternoon, when despite being caught by a couple of heavy squalls, the skies cleared and the sun came out for a while.

I contented myself with a loop of Brownhills and Chasewater and explored some things I’d been meaning to check out for a while, and it wasn’t a bad, but chilly and damp ride.

Some of the views – when the sun caught the spray and the rain sparkled in the light – were gorgeous.

It seems the Indian summer I was hoper for is not to be this year.

September 5th – A washout commute home, too. The traffic was murderous, I was tired and I wasn’t feeling the love. I took to the canals and cycleways, and wound my way back to sanctuary carefully and slowly.

In Goscote, I spotted a lovely apple tree, laden with rosy red fruit, glistening and dripping with fresh rain.

For a moment, I was spellbound by the sound and beauty.

Then I realised how wet I was, got back on the bike and rode home.

September 5th – I was lucky in the morning, my early commute just clipped the edge of the forecast rain, and I didn’t get wet, but when I nipped out mid day on an errant to Wednesbury, I was caught in a downpour.

The flowers in Brunswick Park seemed to enjoy it though. I most do more on Brunswick, it’s another beautiful urban oasis that’s often unappreciated.

Can we have summer back, please? Thanks.

August 20th – A much better, brighter day for me, but not the weather, which got worse as the day went on.

Out for a meal and a ride with someone I’d been missing while they were on holiday, a ride out to a local pub for a huge steak blowout and then a ride to work it off.

There was no wind, and I started in sun; but it soon became overcast and the rain started. But for once it didn’t matter. Returning home 50 miles later in darkness and soaking wet was actually a joy after a wonderful trip out.

Travelling up the A515 through Abbots Bromley, I noticed the modernist, brutal concrete Jubilee Memorial bench, which must be one of the first examples of a very particular municipal style; and then the Best Kept Village trophy sign, which lists all the winners since the competition in Staffordshire began, which is actually fascinating.

I do wonder why that’s in Abbots Bromley, though, and not somewhere else. It seems very… specific.

August 18th – As I got nearer to work, I realised I’d just missed a very localised downpour, I love how the rain an light made Victoria Park look as things lightened up. Dripping gently, the green was beautiful and you’d never think you were in such an urban, industrial place so close to a town centre.

One of the many reasons to love Darlaston…

August 9th – But later, I had to go to Telford, and whilst the air of melancholy remained, I couldn’t remain miserable. The weather was heavy, but there was beauty in it, even in the doomed footbridge at Telford Station, which despite it’s faults was a lot drier than the New Street Station I’d come through earlier.

Berries and apples glistened with raindrops. Water dripped from leaf and roof. It was quiet, but softly musical.

The rain doesn’t care for my despair.

However bad the weather, life must go on. And so it it does.

August 2nd – Travelling to work on a miserable morning in steady rain, it was nice to continue the fruit-spotting with these glistening, deep red crabapples near Bughole Bridge in Darlaston.

Crabapples – bitter, hard miniature versions of the more palatable dessert fruit – come in many varieties from green through russet to deep, deep red like these. These fruits seem uninviting to almost everything and these will remain on the tree until well into the new year, and rot on the ground untouched by birds or squirrels.

They must be awfully acid, but they are so very handsome when new.