March 14th – I’d had to pop to Birmingham for a late afternoon appointment and caught the train back to Blake Street, prepared for an arduous winch back uphill to Brownhills.
I wasn’t expecting the sunset to be quite as wonderful as it was. Little Aston was magical in the gathering dusk. Ah, those wonderful chimneys!
March 10th – The light held over the lanes as I headed for home – not a great sunset, but a good one, nonetheless. The lanes were eerie and quiet, and contrary to my expectations, it seems Keepers Cottage at Footherly remains. I had expected it to be demolished, as had the derelict cottages further down the lane; however, time and the elements seem to be doing the job instead.
A lovely, spooky commute home.
March 10th – A sign spring is finally upon us happened this evening – I returned from Birmingham just in time to catch the remains of the daylight dying over my homeward commute from Shenstone station. This is always welcome, and it’s nice to photograph this beloved landmark in anything other than darkness and sodium light.
This is just the best station. A great place to depart and come back to…
March 2nd – As I said yesterday, the season of transition is upon me; and that includes the period of travelling – on good days, at least – in the golden hour.
I often talk about this magical time, when just approaching sunset the light becomes soft, suffused with pink and gold and changes everything it touches to a precious, rare jewel.
There are few better places to catch such a time than Kings Hill Park and the view of the Twin Sisters. Bathed in the evening sun, they looked even more majestic than usual, but so did the park, and the sunset on the way home along the canal wasn’t too shabby, either.
This’ll do.
February 17th – On the way home, just on the cusp of darkness and in the middle of bustling, humming Pleck, snatched in the traffic, a great sunset.
Man, I love the unexpected beauty of urban life.
February 5th – A day that started horribly murky and then picked up, and towards the late afternoon as I headed to Lichfield for shopping, the sun came out and once again spring insinuated itself in the flowers, the colour, the families enjoying the light and in a terrific sunset.
So lovely to see the world reawakening for another year.
January 3rd – I had to ip out to Screwfix at sunset, so again hopped on the canal. Nothing as interesting as the Goosanders, sadly, and having forgotten the camera, I chanced my arm with the phone at what was a pretty nice sunset.
Cameras on phones are getting better and better, despite the obvious limitations. I’m quite pleased with this.
December 30th – Night finally fell at about 4:30pm near Middleton. Sunset was at 4:01pm. Already, as we move into a new year, the darkness is on the run once more.
Despite the cold, despite the mud, this made me very happy indeed.
Bring on the light!
December 27th – I needed to get out, and a silly challenge on social media led me to the Trent Valley, to prove Rugeley Power Station still exists. You’re probably best not asking, to be honest…
I ended up do a tough ride up to Hanch, then into Armintage, back along the canal to Rugeley, they over Stile Cop and back home via Prospect Village and Chasetown.
The sunset – I caught it as I travelled back up the Trent Valley – was gorgeous, golden and cold. I mashed up Stile Cop from Rugeley, and didn’t stop until Chasetown. A great ride.
And guess what? The power station is still there. Out of use, but still lording it over the valley.
December 26th – No time to take photos on the Chase as darkness fell, but an exhilarating blast off Brocton Field down into the valley was just what the doctor ordered. Remarkably, there were very few people around, and a fast loop up Sherbrook Valley and back over Wolseley Plain was wonderful.
Not so wonderful was the driving on the way back. Considering this is the season of goodwill, there’s an awful lot of aggression on the roads…
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