Tag: sad

February 17th – I came through Kings Hill Park again around mid-day – and this time, crested the ‘hill’ itself, which is a beautiful, peaceful oasis that would have commanding vies of the area were it not surrounded by lovely, mature trees – which is a bit of a dilemma, really.

I noticed here the bench in memory of Jake Wilkes, sadly lost in 2008, and clearly still well loved and tended, and also the first miniature daffodils of the year, which grow in abundance down beside the old chapel. 

A lovely spot that’s just right for a contemplative 10 minutes away from the hassle of work.

February 11th – It was one of those days daylight seemed to avoid. I headed to the canal for a little inspiration, but none came. The grey just merged via a horrid, drizzly mist.

The sky was grey. The water was grey. The landscape was in shades of grey. I felt grey.

Days like these really try your resolve.

February 11th – I can’t beat about the bush here: it was a bloody horrible weekend weather-wise and my disposition wasn’t sunny as a result, either. All the spring of the previous weekend had evaporated and I was left with cold, freezing rain, sleet and a strong wind. 

I had to get shopping and run errands. I had to get out. I went to Brownhills, and it did, to be fair, lighten my mood but the photography was dreadful. But there couldn’t have been a better afternoon to consider Ravens Court, the crumbling, derelict shopping centre whose private owners couldn’t give a toss for.

This foreboding, grim vandal-magnet seems beyond the powers of anyone, including the local authority (and lord knows, they’ve tried) to be sorted once and for all. The people with the power – the owners who are a land-banking company based in Mayfair, London – couldn’t be less bothered.

This place blights our town, is a cause for derision, prevents new investment and stands testament to the abject failure of governments to tame the worst aspects of speculative property capitalism.

It was raining in Ravens Court; but surveying this desolation, the rain in my heart was torrential.

December 31st – I looped back into Brownhills, and took in one of my favourite night photography muses – Silver Street and the canal at night. I never get tired of this, the interaction of lights, architecture and water are always lovely.

Looking back to the flats, soon this view will change. The market place – deserted for 5 years – will be houses, and as the development towards the flats completes, life and light will return to the canal side, transforming the character once more.

Change is what I guess this journal is all about, and as ever, I welcome it, as I grudgingly welcome 2017.

Happy new year to all readers and followers. Here’s to peace, prosperity and happiness to you all, wherever you follow me from.

October 28th – An irritating day where I forgot my camera and everything happened at top speed, so little time to take photos. I’d been over to Telford in the afternoon and came back from Shenstone as dusk fell.

These lanes, I know them so well; they run though my veins like blood. I must have ridden this route thousands of times, and certainly many with the impending feeling of autumn I had today.

I know I will again ride this way on a springtime, sunny day and the wheel will continue it’s inexorable rotation, but tonight, in the gathering dark, it felt a very long way off.

I hate the dark months.

October 14th – I’ve noticed in the last three days or so that autumn has finally arrived, painting her beautiful colours on the trees, hedgerows and landscape. I guess it’s the fact that the temperature has suddenly dropped, but now there can be no doubt we’re careering toward the shorter days, darker nights and colder weather – even though some late summer flowers are still remarkably holding on.

Holding on like I do.

Every year, I get to this point and wonder if I can face another season of darkness – the absence of light and growth and leaves I hate so much. But every year, as if jumping into a cold lake, once I stop struggling and fighting it, the dreaded experience becomes quite enjoyable.

There’s no stopping it now, in any case.

October 1st – Autumn landed with a bump. A saturated, wet day, and a short break in the rain saw me head to Lichfield on an urgent errand – and I got caught by the rain on my way back.

The landscape was wet. I was wet. The skies looked threatening. But Stowe Pool and that view remained captivating.

I was back to where I am every winter – I don’t necessarily want to go out, but I have to. It’s an imperative, get fresh air, exercise, and engage with the outside world – for the good of my health: mental and physical.

Some things make even the most horrible trip out worthwhile.

September 19th – Freewheeling down Shire Oak Hill into Brownhills, I stopped to look at the sad hulk of the Rosa – or ‘Middle’ Oak, closed a couple of years ago, and once a popular, award-winning pub. Sold privately, no planning applications have ever been submitted for another use, and the building continues to fall quite into decay. The only use it sees these days if neighbours using the car park.

Nobody seems to know what, if anything, the owners have planned.

A sad end to a once fine community pub.