July 28th – Cycling after flash rains at the end of a dry spell is dangerous. The torrent washes down sand, stones and detritus that lurk in bends, hollows and adverse cambers waiting to steal your wheels from under you. The stones are the worst – they’re like cycling on black ice.
This patch lies at the junction of Cranebrook Lane and Boat Lane near Hilton, north of Stonnall.
Take care, take it steady, and Look out.
July 27th – I headed out to Burntwood to the supermarket to get some shopping in. I deliberately waited until the rain started, and cycling in it was joyous; warm, soothing, but cool and refreshing, I rejoiced in the rain running down my face and legs. Everything smelt gorgeous, and I’d forgotten how loud rain can be.
It’s not often you’re glad of rain, but I was today.
July 23rd – The predicted thunderstorms hit in he early morning, and I set off to Leicester in a lull when it had stopped raining for a while. As I got o Lichfield, the heavens opened again, and emerging late at Leicester, it was evident I’d just missed the storm there, too. The wet roofs of Knighton Fields glistened beautifully in the weak sun.
Not a great commute, but much better than expected.
June 28th – I don’t often ride into Stonnall from Cartersfield Lane, but having hopped off the canal at Warrenhouse, then over Barracks Lane, it seemed a reasonable route. It’s actually a lovely lane, and on the outskirts of the village, I spotted this row of interesting old houses. Even in the rain, I loved the colours, textures, gables, and above all, the great chimneys!
You can know a place all your life, and still spot something fresh. That’s why cycling – even on wet, grey days – can be a joy.
June 28th – A wonderful spin out in warm rain to Chasewater, then back to Stonnall. Two firsts for the summer in the same ride – first marsh orchid, opposite The Chemical, on the Canal towpath, and the first foxgloves have suddenly bolted into bloom. The raindrops glistened on them like jewels.
It’s all about purple at the moment.
June 27th – I came home in a rainstorm. It was drizzling steadily as I left Leicester, and it was steady, too, at Nuneaton. By Lichfield Trent Vally, is was heavy, and driven by an evil wind. I battled home without waterproof trousers, I was soaked, the traffic was horrid. Summer this year seems elusive…
June 20th – Out for a beer in Walsall with some very good pals, I found myself coming home in heavy, sweet, warm rain. The bike was fast and the roads slick, and I must confess I enjoyed the ride hugely. It was a great sensory experience – the dark, the sound, the smell of wet greenery, the sweep of passing traffic, the taste of fresh, clean rain on my tongue. Green Lane in Walsall Wood remains the only place I feel uneasy after dark, but the deer and badger I startled here were worth the journey alone, but also endearing were the frogs and snails, out enjoying the downpour on the pub patio as I unlocked my bike.
I’d swear that wee frog is grinning.
Bad weather isn’t all bad at all.
June 20th – A wet afternoon. I came back from work and headed to Brownhills for some shopping. Crossing the Pier Street bridge, Brownhills looked oddly sad, yet beautiful in the drizzle. The bunting was up for the canal festival, and with everything green it was hard not to be cheered a little by the optimism of it.
Come right on in, summer. we’ve reserved your seat…
June 12th – An awful commute from a weather point of view. The wind was dreadful in the morning, and the rain caught me on my return. I only took photos in Tyseley, in a rainstorm. Everything was wet; the station, the commuters, the trains. I felt miserable, and didn’t enjoy the journey at all – yet strangely, the Tyseley photos have an odd, lonely kind of charm.
It’s difficult to love the weather this week.
May 30th – It hasn’t been commuting this week, it’s been a test of endurance. This morning, I left for work in heavy rain with a heavier heart. All week, the weather and travel has been grim. I’m fed up of it and would really like some summer, if that’s OK with you.
Thankfully, after my browbeaten, besodden and bedraggled journey to work, the return was in warmer, drier conditions. The air this morning held mist; this afternoon it was clear. As I came past Jockey Meadows on my way home, it was positively glowing and glistening, as only fresh green growth can.
Let’s hope this is the start of a dry spell.
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