Tag: rural

May 1st – Like an idiot, I left my camera at home this morning. I like the iPhone camera, but after the all-singing and dancing idiot box I’m used to, it seems very limited.

I left work earlier than usual, and on my way home shot over Shire Oak hill for a spin to Shenstone and back. The backlanes were glorious and sun bathed, and it really felt like spring out there.

I’ve missed this sort of thing in recent years. It’s good to get back to riding just for the hell of it.

April 21st – Another bitingly cold morning, but in Mill Green, the early sunlight – obscured the day before – caught the light, rising mist and rendered it precious.

It made up for the frozen fingers. Second day running I’ve awoken to ice on the grass. Cast n’er a clout…

January 16th – A day in Droitwich for a change. Cold, hard and clear, I set out before sunrise, and returned as night fell. 

I like Droitwich, particularly the railway station, which has a very sleepy, rural feel to it, despite being quite busy – I think part of the charm lies in the old-style mechanical signals that are still in use here.

The town itself is pleasant, and in places quite hilly with makes for interesting cycling.

It was a hard day’s work and I was glad to finish and that it was Friday, but not a bad end to the week, all in all.

September 24th – I had to nip over to Droitwich late in the afternoon, just to check something over for a client. It’s actually a lot quicker to get there than you’d think; catch the right trains and it’s only 70 minutes out of Walsall. 

Droitwich has a lovely station, and as I waited on my return the light was beautifully mellow, but the sky had some very black clouds that looked awfully threatening. But the sun shone through, it was warm, and only the colour of the trees really gave any clue that this was autumn at all.

December 13th – I got away early today, and raced the rain home. Having come from Birmingham, I took the first train in my general direction available, in light of recent hassles, and ended up alighting at Shenstone. Riding down Footherley Lane, I noticed the mud was quite thick on the ground.

This is to be expected – after all the ploughing, seeding and the like, mud is carried out of fields onto roads that are never cleaned except by the rains, and we haven’t had heavy prolonged rain for a while.

This mud can be evil on road bike tyres, or after a light frost, when it partially freezes and turns into wheel-stealing slush. The best advice is take it slow, steady, don’t brake unless you have to and no sudden movements.

All part of the fun of winter…

September 13th – A grim commute in both directions. The wind and rain had arrived and seemed set to be in for the weekend. I’d suffered a thoroughly enervating week, and had had quite enough. Train delays and overcrowding made for a tough journey home, and I was glad to be coming back along the quiet lanes between Shenstone and Stonnall with a following wind.

The green, the fresh air and smell of the rain cheered me, but it was oh so hard. It’s a long time since I was this glad of a weekend.

September 21st – Late afternoon, the heavens opened. It’s been a fairly dry month, so it wasn’t too bad. But it affected my mood: it’s now the autumnal equinox when day is the same length as night, and the earth neither tilts toward, or away from, the sun. We are now crossing into astronomical autumn and winter, and the driving rain and wet countryside reminded me of this. I feel like this every year, before the leaves turn and the countryside becomes once more golden. It never gets easier, if I’m honest. It’s hard being an outdoors person when the nights draw in.