Tag: seasons

February 25th – Sorry, I won’t feature Darlaston again for a few days, promise: but the town is my current muse and I do love it so – and it looks splendid in the winter sunshine.

The curious, frustrating and utterly unpredictable flip-flop weather at the moment means last night’s rain was this morning a gorgeous, almost still, warm sunny winter day. Darlaston Police Station looked fine, as did Victoria Park. 

You can’t not take a photo of this place. It’s gorgeous.

February 24th – Little firsts are the art of getting through winter. Little, tiny victories that mark the passage from darkness to light, and tonight, on my way home from work, it was my first normal-time commute in something approximating daylight, rather than darkness.

OK, it was wet, windy, murky, verging on the brink daylight, but it was perceptibly not dark. A little victory.

The joy of this almost totally took my mind off what an unutterably foul ride it was…

February 21st – The weather really couldn’t make up its mind – today, in about 90 minutes, I experienced rain, hail, snow, wind and warm sunshine. Heading back up the canal to Brownhills from Burntwood, the skies were beautiful, as were the patches of sunshine and shadow that chased over the landscape. 

The verdant green of the new crops and bright blue really do whisper of a nascent spring, but I must remember, some of the heaviest snows for years were at the end of March in 2013.

I don’t think winter has quite laid down yet…

February 17th – In Kings Hill Park, two firsts for the year; my first snowdrops and crocuses. The snowdrops seem very few and far between this year, and those around seem small and spindly. Can’t be their year. No such issues with the crocuses.

I think this spring idea might just work. The seasons wheel moves on another tooth. Bring it on.

February 6th – It’s been chilly now for a couple of weeks, and I now have my winter cycling skin on, and barely feel the cold. It gets you like that in the end; you become tempered, inured, used to the climate; so much so that you feel it when it warms up that much more acutely. I love being in this position. It means when spring comes, it’s even more joyous.

At Green Lane on another cold, icy commute, I was wrapped up and felt warm, and the barren beauty of the season really struck me.

I’d like spring to hurry up, of course: but I can live with this, for now.

February 4th – We’re in the season of great sunsets again. Caught on the way home, a glimpse over the black country of an old-style GSM transmitter in Darlaston. I love the contrast of the lattice-work tower with then sky and streetlights behind.

I don’t know why, but I love this sort of stuff – radio towers, pylons and suchlike. They can be so beautifully elegant, and so often derided and overlooked.

February 4th – I had to nip into Wednesbury from Darlaston mid-morning, so hopped over Kings Hill. Something about the light, the cold, the slightly softening haze caught my eye. It’s brittle cold at the moment, but I’m at the stage where I’m barely noticing it. I love days like this, wrapped up well they’re a joy to ride in.

January 27th – Heading back to Brownhills, dusk now getting later and later. Tis pleases me, and the opening out is now well underway. Another cold month or two, and then, hopefully, spring. Right now, it’s still a battle, but it’s one I’m winning; this winter hasn’t seemed as dark as others in recent years and I’ve felt a lot better about it.

I am looking forward to leaves, colour and warmth again, though.

All in good time.

January 3rd – My dislocation was compounded by the darkness. Despite the moonlight, the town seemed very dark and deserted, from the alley at the rear of the church to the footpath over the spot, which I rode over to Clayhanger to visit a pal.

Sometimes I hate the darkness. Sometimes it’s my best friend. Right now, I just wish it would hang back a bit.

Roll on spring.