Tag: shenstone

July 12th – Station to station on seemingly different days. I left for work this morning – again, I was in southeast Birmingham – in bright sunshine, with clear blue skies. I took my jumper off, enjoyed the breeze and the traffic. The view of the Bull Ring from Moor Street was particularly wonderful – so many architectural styles in one view. Sadly, on my return at 8:30pm, the day had turned nasty. Short heavy showers, separated by steady drizzle. Shenstone station looked as handsome as ever, but the weather was a real pain. Why do I seem to keep scaring summer off?

July 11th – After days of moaning about the rain, as I commuted home late this afternoon, the sun came out. This was so joyous to me that I cruised around the lanes of Shenstone for a while, dawning in the warmth, taking in the colours of nature around me. It had been an odd morning commute – I set out in purring rain, but got to the station in sunshine. I’ve been very down about the lack of summer in recent days, and the relentless grind of getting wet nearly every day has taken it’s toll on my mood. This ride, however, was restorative. Blue skies, light fluffy clouds and a gorgeous light. The wheat looked healthy, and the hedgerows and lane margins bristled with life. Excellent. 

June 28th – Travelling home after a day of incredible weather. We had torrential rain, some of the worst I’ve ever seen, thunder and lightning… but within an hour, it was sunny again and the Midlands was left to clean up after flash floods. I had to go to Tyseley that afternoon, and returned to Blake Street, near Sutton. The trains weren’t running any further, due to the line being flooded, and here, at Wood Lane, between Shenstone and Footherley, the lanes were flooded too. Note the lady driver taking no prisoners. I just hope the air intake on her engine isn’t low down…

The music is ‘Born in a Storm’ by Deacon Blue.

May 30th – There was something of the smug git about me when I arrived home. I sat on the train, watching the rain pound down on north Birmingham and Sutton. Station after station, wet commuters got on or off the train. Resigned to my fate, I hopped off at Shenstone, to find the rain had stopped. The sun was trying to come out. The sky was still threatening, so I sped home, enjoying the sun, and wondering if the spots I felt on my legs were road spray or rain starting again. Completely against the odds I arrived home dry and warm.

Life doesn’t usually reward me like this. Further down the line I’ll pay, I just know it…

May 26th – A great ride today in blazing sunshine which I recorded in this post on my main blog. But while heading out, I noticed  that these old cottages in Footherley Lane, near Shenstone, had at last received some attention. All the surrounding scrub has been cut down. Hopefully, this is a precursor to someone actually turning them back into homes. Derelict for since I was a child, there’s no excuse for allowing good house to just crumble, unoccupied and unloved. The people who did so should hang their heads in shame.

May 12th – I shot around Stonnall, Shenstone, Little Hay, Canwell, Hints and Hopwas. I had the sun on my back and speed in my wheels. The countryside was beautiful, with the most vibrant greens and yellows. Birdsong was all around, and I really had the sense of nature going about it’s seasonal business. The canal between Hopwas and Hademore was limpid and placid, and the return through Lichfield was equally lovely. Can there be anywhere finer than South Stafforshire on a sunny late spring day?

May 9th – It was still summer when I came home – but it was a typical English summer, in that it was raining. But it was a soft rain, the kind of gentle, warm rain you get when the air is still. A vague haze sat over the countryside, and everything smelt of growth and pollen. I actually enjoyed being out in this, it was refreshing and sweet. The roads were quiet and I enjoyed gliding through the wet, glistening, growing countryside. 

In Shenstone, St. Johns Hill was back to being the green canopied tunnel it normally becomes in high summer, and at the Footherley Brook, I understood just how far things had come in a few weeks. 

April 26th – I came home under a cloud, as I often do. This one, however, was meteorological rather than psychological. It was grim when I left Leicester, and trying to rain; my train was delayed, and then I got bumped onto the next one 40 minutes later due to lack of space. Arriving at Shenstone an hour later than usual, the black skies were gathering. My mood, and the outlook, was black. Yet the rain held off, and the countryside of Footherley, and the sight and sound of a healthily flowing Footherley Brook cheered me. Oddly, I arrived home in quite a good mood, albeit rather late. I guess that’s why I cycle.