Tag: rain

March 2nd – Two very poor photos of Walsall Wood in a downpour. I was late back from work. It had rained most of the way home. It was cold, and the wind was brutal. I was dry under the waterproofs, though, and I just made a place I had to visit on the way back, so it wasn’t all bad.

Walsall Wood has a sort of soft, beautiful quality in the rain of a dark night. Villagey, yet urban. Energy and motion in the traffic, unstoppable, relentless, with somewhere to be, that isn’t here; yet it’s contrasted with the static streetlights, shop and pub glow and the son sheen of wet tarmac. 

I’d rather be at home. I’m still troubled by low energy, short breath and sinus hassle, but that’s improving; but the night was hostile and I’d rather be in the warm and dry.

So I ploughed home.

February 21st – Another grim, grey and periodically wet day that had started reasonably well, but by the time I was able to escape, had descended into grey intemperance. I headed out to Chasewater and found the water level still rising, but the place was largely deserted and the lake very choppy indeed. This place was hostile today.

The only bright thing here was the gorse, which is strongly in flower all around the park. Such vivid, bright yellow. A real joy.

February 20th – A foul, grey and wet day hemmed me in and I only left the house to get some shopping in. While out, I looped up the canal and back to town; it was dark, desolate and windy and I found the experience particularly joyless. 

I did find cheer, however, in the bike on the back of the narrowboat moored at Siler Street, which seemed made to measure to fit in place, and for the waterside grotto at the back of the houses on Lindon Drive which seemed like the ideal place to chill out on a more temperate evening. 

A lot of thought has clearly gone into that little sanctuary.

February 17th – Only a couple of photos today as the commute was horrid both ways – driving, squally rain. I was cheered however, by spotting this grumpy-looking sentry on duty at St. John’s Church in Pleck. I don’t think he lives there, but was certainly availing himself of the shelter to watch the world go by.

I clearly didn’t amuse him. But he’s a big lad and I suspect someone loves him very much.

February 8th – This was supposed to be a photo of the statue of Sister Dorothy Pattison, heroine of Walsall and a great personal hero of mine, moodily lit in a windswept town at closing time.

On that score it failed miserably. The old girl is out of focus, and the light doesn’t do her justice at all, which is sad. She was the mother of modern healthcare in Walsall and gave her heart, soul and life to caring for the Victorian sick, injured and infirm.

It does, however, show the atmosphere on The Bridge as I passed through. I’d had a dreadful commute again – driving rain and a headwind ion the way in that morning, and on the way back, the tailwind, although decent, wasn’t the engine-substitute I’d laboured against earlier.

A nasty gale was whipping up though, and there was a sense of increasing desertion and of collar-up, head down scurrying home.

It was fascinating and I wish I’d hung around a bit longer.

February 6th – I had promised not to moan about the rain again. But come on, it was rain all day from the moment I awoke until late into the evening. That’s not good. And again, that evil, evil wind.

I got out around teatime and did a quick loop of the town. There is something enchanting about traffic, electric light and rain, but I think I’ve seen enough of it.

All I want right now is a dry, calm and sunny spring. It seems unlikely. But I can always hope…

January 31st – Returning via Chasewater, the wind was building up and conditions were choppy. In many ways, the country park is at it’s best on days like this as you realise just how harsh such a wide open space can be.

I noted that the reservoir is about 150-180mm off full now (6-7 inches). This is interesting, as the reservoir hasn’t overtopped for a couple of years now, and it’ll be interesting to see if it’s allowed to again. One thing is for certain, though: the capacity used up by local brooks and natural drains filling up the reservoir has certainly relieved pressure on the Rivers Tame and Trent, which would have taken the burden had Chasewater overflowed – perhaps this demonstrates the sense of going into winter with a relatively low level.

The valves are currently still close and I watch with interest.

January 26th – Ah, hello rain, you’re back.

Passing through Walsall to make a call on my commute home, the heavens opened. For what seemed like the thousandth time this year, I got wet. But the rain was warm and the wind was behind me, and it didn’t last too long.

However, I did catch it whilst in Park Street, in the town centre. Something about the light and surfaces combined. I though it was rather beautiful.

January 23rd – Nipped out to Aldridge to bag some shopping just before tea – and got caught by the rain. Sadly, this photo of the pub everyone knows as The Elms, on the central island in Aldridge, is the only one that came out usable.

The pub was known as The Elms for years and then in the 90s, a refurb renamed it ‘The Brasshouse’ much to the ire of locals; after a few unsuccessful years, it reverted back to The Elms – and now, following another turd polish, it’s The Crown.

It’s a mystery to me why big pub companies think taking a landmark pub and renaming it in opposition to the views and history of the local community is ever a good move – it’s a certain way to build hostility.

Bizarre.

January 13th – Now, this is winter at last. Riding homeward at 6pm, the air temperature according to the ride computer was -2.4 degrees C. It felt it too.

That morning had shown a light, wet dusting of snow, and it half-heartedly snowed during the late evening, too.

I’d like a bit of snow, or some good hard frosts.Come on then, weather… show us what you’re made of.