February 4th – Yes, I know, vandalism. But I couldn’t fail to be intrigued by this graffiti I spotted mid day when travelling through Droitwich station. Anagrams. Then the cryptic ‘Elm is a Lea Tree’. It must be a message, I’d guess to ‘Miles’, but who knows?
Mindless graffiti is bad kids, don’t do it. But it is unusual to see something so literary.
Odd place, Droitwich.
February 2nd – I had to leave work and pop to Walsall mid morning, so I hopped on the canal. Passing through James Bridge, I noticed a works compound had been set up, and butties and a utility boat were blocking the canal under the old IMI bridge. From the contents of the compound, it seems a particularly daft folly is about to commence: the tearing up and resurfacing of one of the best canal towpaths in Walsall.
The stretch from here to Walsall is being relaid by the Canal & River Trust, apparently as a cycle route, for reasons I’ve been unable to discern; but one thing I’ll guarantee is the person who decided it was needed was not a cyclist.
The towpaths here are wide, smooth and well made, in contrast to those from Aldridge to Rushall Junction, which are unusable in winter, or those through Pelsall to Goscote. The money spend here will be an unneeded waste.
Breathtaking folly.
January 16th – On my return, I came through Shenstone, and was reminded of s simple fact…
A village can be awash with money. A parish council can be very good at getting grants. But neither of those facts mean the village has any taste.
I think this clock is hideous. Sorry.
January 6th – Then there was this fellow. Just look at the unbridled smugness.This is a cat whose self-belief defies his probable hatred of water.
Perched casually on a tree trunk sticking out of the canal bank in Pleck, puss is about 2-3 feet over the water. If he fell off, he’d be very wet and there’s no easy escape; but this cat is unconcerned.
He just sat there, looking pleased with himself.
January 1st – New Years Day 2016, and the weather is so unseasonably temperate that calendula are flowering on the verge in Barracks Lane, just at the Warrenhouse, near Brownhills. And they aren’t the only thing.
I welcome the colour and cheerfulness, but this can’t be right, can it?
November 5th – At Telford, two mysteries, one easily solved. On my journey I often pass a budget hotel, the rear of which is visible from the cycleway. On top of a cage surrounding what looks like air conditioning and refrigeration plant, a bicycle. It hasn’t moved for a year or more, or at least, it’s been there every day I’ve passed by. I’m wondering if anybody has actually noticed it from the hotel, or if it’s just a really secure locking space?
And then, the bike shed at the place I was visiting. Normally I have a job finding a space on sunny days. Today, only the hardcore mountain biker guy has rode in. And it looks like he got a wet arse doing so.
No mystery about fair-weather cyclists…
October 14th – Hadn’t seen these guys for a bit, but when I passed the overflow at Clayhanger Bridge, the three crossbreed mallards were having a conflab in the shallows. It was a bit like how I imagine a Roman bath-house to be, but with ducks.
What I particularly like about these chaps is that they’re always together, and that they always seem to be smiling.
October 13th – Hurriedly snapped in evening traffic at Rushall. Michael Jackson didn’t die, clearly – he’s now keeping his head down. starring in recruitment adds for Travel West Midlands.
October 9th – Oh, hi Bill Drummond. Are you here for a while, or just passing thorough? Good to see you’re still on form.
September 16th – Shooting along the canal to Great Bridge early doors I passed under Bughole Bridge. Can it really be 22 years since they rebuilt it? The Black Country Route – which passes nearby – was new then.
I’ve never got to the bottom of what Bughole means, though. Anyone know? Like Bumble Hole and Devil’s Elbow, it’s one of those great Black Country names we accept without too much thought day to day, but when thought about really are quite preposterous.
BrownhillsBob's #365daysofbiking 