Tag: spring

April 25th – April is certainly the cruellest month of 2012 so far. Maybe I just got used to life in the dry, but commuting this week has had it’s difficult moments. I headed to Lichfield at dawn in a rainstorm, wrenching myself up the A461 against a merciless headwind. Making the train just in time, the inclement weather seemed to follow me to Leicester, where it hung around menacingly outside, like some school bully waiting to beat me anew on the way home. Fortunately, the trip home wasn’t so bad, just drizzle, really. But whatI did notice was the trees: clearly thirsty, there has been a sudden explosion in foliage and blossom. It’s an ill wind, and all that. 

April 22nd – I ducked out of it all day. Today was one of the very few days, where if I hadn’t been doing 365daysofbiking, I wouldn’t have left home. I felt ropey, the weather was crap. I had lots of other… stuff to do. But my commitment is real, and I left after tea.It was drizzling steadily. But again, the bike felt good under me. I had waterproofs on. This could just work. I headed onto the canal in Brownhills, and cycled up over Catshill Junction towards Chasewater. It was OK. I stopped to take pictures at Lane’s Farm – and then I saw them… swallows. Hunting insects in the dusk and rain. Swallows, damn it! They’d come all the way from Africa to here, to hunt insects and breed. You can’t bottle that. I continued up the canal in the dusk, enjoying every minute. 

Cycling, an antidepressant. Ride one, twice a day.

April 19th – Returning from Lichfield, I was still managing to avoid the showers. Everywhere seemed damp, verdant and growing. Birds scuttled in an out of the hedgerows, rabbits darted into ditches and roadside warrens. Crossing the M6 toll at Summerhill, near Sandhills, the weak sunlight captured a field of oilseed rape near Stonnall, lit the whole thing up and made it precious. Some moments catch the light like diamonds.

April 17th – I’d been lucky and missed the day’s intemperate, sharp showers. Feeling smug, nature slapped me about the face when I was nearly back in Brownhills. At 4:45pm, the heavens opened and spat down the most violent hailstorm. Sheltering in a bus stop, I waited for it to pass – I’m no fair weather cyclist, but I draw the limit at being pebbledashed. 
Within 15 minutes, the sun came out and the sky returned to the threatening darkness that it had been wearing for most of the day. Inspired, I headed to Clayhanger and the new pool. I noted swans were nesting there, too, and how green everything seemed to be becoming. Dawdling, I was just clipped by the rain as I returned home… going to be an interesting week of commuting, I think.

April 5th – Spring is in full throw now. The trees are coming into leaf, early rapeseed is flowering and despite the cold wind, the sun was warm on my neck. Trundling back from the Chasewater Transport Show, I noted one of my favourite sights was coming into being – a weeping willow over water. Such a beautiful thing, and a real sign that better days are on the way. Home or Lanes Farm at Sandhills looked gorgeous with its patchwork of rolling fields. People who say Brownhills is ugly really need to get out more. 

April 13th – Ah, the true English. Yesterday, I feature my first bluebell of the year, spotted on a verge at Sandhills, near Brownhills. Sadly, it was the foreign, invasive variety. I should, have course, realised that the English ones would have been easy to find in the Arrow Valley, also a haven of my beloved wild garlic. If you compare this plant with that featured yesterday, you’ll note the blooms droop more, are generally more delicate, largely on one side of the stem and the colour is a richer violet.

You can’t beat the real thing… even in Redditch.

April 12th – That’s what I love about spring – the firsts. First snowdrop, first daffodil. First yellowhammer. First house martin. Everything starts over in spring, and so it is with the bluebells. These are my first this year. Sadly, they’re the foreign interlopers rather than the English variety, but they’ll do (the English only have blooms on one side of the stem). They’re growing beside the busy A461 Lichfield Road at Sandhills, just near Brownhills. Now we’ve got bluebells, can my favourite, the wild garlic, be far behind?

April 4th – Well, I wasn’t expecting snow. Up early, I looked out of the window just as the white stuff started falling. I’d been expecting a foul commute, but in reality, it wasn’t too bad. It was cold, and damp, but a lot less so than if it had been raining. The biggest hazard was the slipperiness of the roads – not due to ice, but due to weeks of tyre rubber, spilled diesel and silt building up on the road surface without rain to wash it away. In the meltwater, it became a black, slippery goop, just aching to take the wheels from under the unwary cyclist.
The snow was certainly a shock, though, and amongst the spring blooms and blossom of Telford’s roadside verges, the patches of snow made for an unusual, slightly sombre sight. 

April 2nd – Today was overcast, grey and towards evening, showery. This came as some shock, despite it being the normal seasonal fayre for this time of year. I’ve grown used to the sun and warmth, and to snatch it away now seems a little churlish. Never mind though, there’s the daffodils. Be it in Telford or Shelfield, they are a positive yellow riot at the moment, and they brighten up even the dullest commute. 

March 26th – The morning fog, as Kate Bush would have it. A gorgeous speedy ride into Lichfield to catch the train to Leicester. I came out at sunrise, and there seemed to be some kind of inversion. An ethereal, patchy mist clung to hollows and hedges, in places only a couple of feet high. I could have photographed it for hours, but my train was due…