Tag: rain

December 26th – The dirty old river Tame that gives it’s name to Tamworth and doubles the Trent by draining Birmingham, was in impressive form yesterday. I’m interested in the flood pattern of this river, which runs in a natural channel from Minworth to Cat Holme, near the National Memorial Arboretum. heading out when the sun was shining, I looped through Lichfield and Whittington as the rains came. At Elford, I surveyed the path of the recent flood, and the houses on The Beck – which are so attractive in summer -looked vulnerable. The old Elford bridge, however, looked as steadfast as ever. Following the river down through Tamhorn, I viewed it again from Hopwas, where it’s natural flood channel can be seen. That shallow berm is more than enough to protect the houses of the village, as to the eastern side, the plain is wide. It’s interesting to note anti-erosion work going on there. 

The waters look brown, angry and filthy, and they currently are. Undoubtedly contaminated with all manner of pollutants, including possibly sewage, it will take a few dry weeks to settle before returning to it’s  clear, glass-like self. 

There’s no avoiding the spirit of the water.

December 25th – The weather cheered up for the traditional Christmas day ride, which was unexpected and enjoyable. Heading out along the dam at Chasewater, I succumbed to my OCD about the water level and took a picture of the scale. It really isn’t far now until the water reaches the maximum level of the top of the weir in the spillway. I reckon it might just get there by new year. I last checked last Thursday, 20th December, when the water was at 44cm from the top of the middle metre scale. It now stands at 8cm from top – an increase in 5 days of 36cm, or 14 inches. I have never seen anything like this. Water is now lapping around the balcony shore, and to all intents and purposes, is now at pre-dam work levels. A remarkable thing and a great Christmas present for all wildlife enthusiasts who love this special place.

December 24th – I cycled over a very grey, silent Chasewater at dusk to Morrisons in Burntwood. The supermarket was very quiet for 4pm on Christmas Eve, and I felt quid sad and un-Christmassy. To cheer myself up, I cycled back through Chasetown. I like this odd little hillside village, and it’s steeply inclined High Street. They have quite a good Christmas tree this year, and in the damp darkness, the lights of the traffic and shopfront mingled to form a very festive scene. I felt much better, and cycled home damp, but full of festive spirit once more.

Merry Christmas, everyone! 

December 23rd – An evening return through Chasewater revealed, unsurprisingly, ever increasing water levels. I’m hoping the lake will be near full by new year, and by the state of the forecast, that looks distinctly possible. At the moment, I’m most interested in the waterline around the pier. After so long high and dry, I’m wondering how being soaked again in the water is affecting the structure, with let’s face it, was knackered a long time ago. I can’t figure out why it hasn’t actually been removed…

December 22nd – The rain was evil on my return through Lower Stonnall, aided and abetted by a low but sharp wind. As I came back down Gravelly Lane, I stopped to look at Ivy Cottage in the dusk. Ivy Cottage is a landmark for me: it stands at an oblique, curious angle to junction, and it’s lights indicate that I’m nearly home, and have to turn right. It’s a lovely cottage, and looks best in spring. I know the seasons are advancing by this cottage, and the degree of night-time when I pass it on my return from work. Yesterday was the shortest day and winter solstice, from now, for me, spring starts. This is not trivial. From here, everything opens out.

A reader of this journal remarked to me a few weeks ago that I sounded tired in my posts. It’s not tiredness as such, it’s fatigue; the attrition of the dark and bad weather, and the knowledge that worse was to come. For an outdoors person, the nights closing in seems calamitous, inevitable, and depressing. I feel it acutely. From now, slowly, almost imperceptibly, daylight extends. It will creep gradually into my journeys, and in a few weeks, rather than the death and retreat I’ve seen since summer passed, life will return and nature will awaken. I know there’s bad weather to come, but having seen the shortest day, I can now face anything. 

I can understand why everyone from the Celts to the Romans and Christians had a midwinter celebration. They felt this point was a symbol of time’s passage. I concur. From here, the riding gets better and better. 

December 20th – It was still peeing it down when I arrived at Lichfield – soggy, muddy but exhilarated. The rain was a fun challenge to cycle in, but the traffic was murder. I haven’t been here for a while, and noted, as ever, the excellent Christmas lights. The quiet city gave me chance to get shopping done, and admire the new, Debenhams-sponsored Christmas tree, which, I have to say, is probably one of the best public trees I think I’ve ever seen.

It’s beginning to look a lot like Christmas. But wetter…

December 20th – Sorry to keep banging on about Chasewater, but it’s fascinating me, I’ve never seen anything like this. It rained all day, and going stir-crazy, I donned the waterproofs and went out, first up to Chasewater, then on to Lichfield to do some shopping. The going was fast and windless, but the rain was heavy and persistent. Chasewater was deserted, and the levels continue to rise at a truly astonishing rate. Last Sunday, 16th of December, the level on the pier was at the 58cm mark on the scale on the pier. On Thursday 20th – today – it had risen to the  44cm mark. That’s a whole 14cm increase – about 5 and a half inches – In four days. Considering the huge increase in surface area as the level rises, this is remarkable. I think the lake may be full by New Year. The sandy beach has now returned at the north end of the dam, and the water is now coming up to the balcony boardwalk. It laps along the toe of the dam, and the new culvert between the Swag and main pool flows healthily. If you can, get up there when the weather breaks. I am captivated by the transition.

December 19th – I was hoping for a cold, dry Christmas. It seems it’s going to be another warm, damp one like last year. Today was pretty grim, and I left it until after dark to take in a grim loop of Brownhills.

You guys over in Chasewater Wildlife Group… you doing the rain dance. You can stop now, it’s OK. Honest…

December 14th – Just as I was getting into the swing of cold, bright days, along comes the rain fairy again. Today, the commute and riding was shocking. It was a dreadful journey to work; into a headwind, drizzle getting heavier as I went. It took 35 minutes to cycle what is usually a 25 minute journey, and I thought I’d just missed my train. Reconciled to a 20 minute wait at Blake Street, I was the only person around. Then, completely unlisted on the passenger information system, a train turned up out of nowhere, which seemed a bit odd.

The further I got toward my destination, the heavier the rain became. Tyseley looked grey and horrible, and nobody seemed to turn the daylight on at all. The commute home was equally dreadful.

I was cheered, however, to note that next week, it’ll be the shortest day – then the nights begin to open out again. Roll on Christmas, let’s have some nuts…

November 24th – Finding myself in the dark of Chasewater, the only real light was in the mist over the water caused by the heavy rain. Realising the wind was from the east, I decided to see what the camera could do on a long exposure. It was really very dark, but I set shutter priority and set exposure to the maximum 8 seconds, with the camera stood on the dam wall. I’m fascinated by the results. I don’t know anything at all about photography – I usually just let the camera do it’s thing, and have worked out how to get decent results by trial and error without really understanding the process. Of late, I’ve started to get more adventurous, and the little camera seems a lot more versatile than I thought.

As a side issue, I note the water level of the lake has shot up: looking at the level on the pier woodwork, it seems to have gained about 300mm – a whole foot – in November. With the land saturated, I guess all the runoff is now pouring it. I’m seriously wondering if the lake could be near full by New Year.