Monday November 16th 2020 – I’m getting a bit fed up of the wet weather right now. Can it stop please?
Morris, the Brownhills miner doesn’t mind though. He’s stainless steel, and shiny and bright whatever the weather.
Bless him.
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October 22nd – Tipton’s Coronation Gardens on a beautiful, sunny autumn day.
The Black Country is my home, the place I love: My past, present and hopefully, future.
William Perry the famous pugilist still takes on all comers here, but is continually humiliated by pigeons. His embarassment is quiet and dignified though,like this small but beautiful park.
When you mention Tipton to people who don’t know the place, they invariably imagine dirt, factories, bleak streets and deprivation.
Both I and William Perry know different. Although he’s still annoyed about the pigeons.
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September 8th – Returning to Brownhills, I passed Morris, the Brownhills Miner, standing sentry as he has done for over a decade now.
I love Morris. I think most everyone does. It’s not the history for me so much as the technical achievement of his method of creation and the sheer skill in the metalwork.
A fine piece of art, and a tour de force of engineering for it’s creator, John McKenna.
And also, my beacon of home. This Iron Man is definitely a hometown hero.
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July 22nd – I’ve been riding through Bloxwich more often since the Chase Line upgrade, and I keep passing the remarkable sculpture of Lady Diana Spencer outside the monumental Masons that commissioned it. It’s certainly an unusual landmark.
The sculpture was made around the year 2000 in tribute to the deceased Princess, but when unveiled, it was black, shiny granite and was ridiculed for looking more like Diana Ross (according to a local politician of the day) or Dennis Nordern in the view of a local news commentator.
It was donated to Walsalls Council, who refused it, declined to place it in the local art gallery, and ended up back with the donor after plans to put it on display were apparently vetoed by the palace.
Since then, it was sandblasted to remove the sheen, and it stands outside the Masons being, well… Somewhat incongruous.
I think it’s absolutely bloody awful.
You can criticise almost every aspect of it – but the one thing nobody ever comments on that has always baffled me – the shoes.
Has she just come from welding on a ship and forgot to change her boots?
A curious bit of local legend.
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May 11th – And on my return, after dark, a familiar metallic face standing proud against a deep, very deep blue night sky.
I love Morris. He’s my sign of homecoming.
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February 24th – Piccadilly Mining Memorial, erected in 2009, is oddly similar in concept and design to the one created in 22006 in Hednesford. The lamp is made by CAM Engineering of Pyle, South Wales, who seem to have made several, including the one at Hednesford. The wall with names of miners inscribed in the bricks is also a feature at Hednesford.
The area around the tiny village of Piccadilly – now marooned by a huge oil terminal and large industrial parks – used to be occupied by several large coal mines, now closed, and mining heritage is strong here, so the desire for a memorial is under stable and totally appropriate.
I just seems a bit… Off the peg to me.
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February 16th – Another long exposure experiment, Morris from the front of the Parkview Centre (the old Council House) gives a different aspect with the light trails from passing traffic.
I need to try this again when it’s busier – maybe panned out to get the curious saddleback contour fo the roundabout to show.
But its nice to get this wonderful statue with less of the usual blue light tint to the image.
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January 5th – Heading back up the High Street to get a takeaway, I passed the now well-lit Morris with the lights on the surrounding trees looking beautiful.
I will never tire of photographing this statue. Is is by turns, dramatic, beautiful, ridiculously out of place, preposterous and wonderful.
Fantastic by day, even better by night. Morris symbolises home and the town I love.
And I wouldn’t have it any other way.
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#365daysofbiking Hello darkness my old friend
August 26th – it was a dreadful, wet day and I still wasn’t well. I was busy at home with things that had needed doing for ages, and I slipped out after dark for a spin around a dripping, sodden town.
I hate this weekend, every year; it’s OK if the weather’s good and you can ride, but if it’s grey and horrible it’s so depressing. It always feels like the end of summer, even if it’s nowhere near.
Riding was actually good, and the somnambulant town was quiet in the gathering night. With the new houses, Church Road is probably the most atmospheric it’s been for years, and Coppice lane wears it’s loneliness like an old jacket.
Still can’t get a night photo of Morris I’m happy with, though…
July 4th – The odd things you see on the canals by chance: Under a bridge in Park Hall, Walsall, Lakshmi, the Hindu goddess of wealth and good fortune, not on the towpath side but on the bumper ledge.
I wonder what her story is?
BrownhillsBob's #365daysofbiking 