Tag: sunset

January 19th – A beautiful day. After some time spannering the bike to cure the previous weekend’s mechanical ills, I took a sunset run out over Chasewater, down through Burntwood and Hammerwich, back up to Pipe Hill, and returned via Wall, Chesterfield and Hilton. It was a fine, cold winter ride. 

Chasewater, as I predicted yesterday, is now overflowing and irrigating the spillway. If you want to see this (and it’s worth taking a look), get there quickly, as I suspect it won’t be allowed to overflow for too long.

The gull roost seemed huge and was growing steadily as I cycled away. The view from Wall churchyard was as lovely as ever, and I was joined by a very affectionate and playful young ginger cat. I tried to take his picture, but he just couldn’t be still.

It was a gorgeous ride on a lovely evening. Let’s have some more of this, please.

January 11th – It was a terrible ride out, if I’m honest. Despite the sunny day, like Boxing Day, the towpaths and trails were nothing but slop, and I was covered in mud. I had several silly mechanical issues with the bike,  including a puncture (no, I haven’t put the tape in yet!). I ended up on a short, abortive ride around Burntwood, Hammerwich and Springhill.

Despite all of that, the sunset was gorgeous.

This one goes out to Trevor in Australia, who I’m told isn’t too well right now. Get well soon, old chap.

January 4th – I’d been down to Stonnall on a fairly uninspiring ride; the weather was far more settled, the wind had dropped, but everywhere is still sodden. I couldn’t find a decent picture. Then, as I cycled up the Chester Road and over the brow of the hill, I realised we we in for a good sunset. I immediately decided to head for Chasewater, to try and catch it. On the way there, I realised it would be nearly over when I got there, so captured views along the way.

I do hope this is the start of a more settle period, but somehow, I doubt it.

December 29th – I rode out lunchtime, and just rode. It was a lovely day, with gorgeous light, and a lovely winter sunshine chill. I didn’t take many photos – some days, you just don’t – but it’s a ride that will stay with me for a while. It was peaceful, the roads were quiet, and there was an atmosphere of calm tranquility.

Here at Hints, just outside Tamworth, leaning on a gate at the foot of the ancient Gold’s Clump, overlooking the Black Brook Valley, I watched the sheep grazing an the light fade, content.

This is what I’d been needing since summer ended. I felt alive again.

December 27th – The same photo-expedition also saw me returning from Walsall Wood and heading to Stonnall. This meant climbing Shire Oak Hill from the Walsall side – whenever I do this, I always stop to look at the view. This is a fantastic urban skyline, and one I’ve always loved. 

Beauty can be found in the most mundane, plain landscapes if one looks.

December 27th – I was out taking photos for the New Year Quiz on the main blog, and I found myself in Engine Lane (no, this isn’t a clue!) as the sun set. The green lane here is nothing but a mud bath, but it was beautiful, all the same. Considering the filth and fury that would once have existed here in the form of mining, it really is hard to imagine the peace of this quiet, almost rural spot ever being disturbed; likewise, the canal between Clayhanger and the Black Cock Bridge. Where I stood, trains once crossed to a huge colliery on the other side of the canal. The air would have been full of smoke, dust and noise; the canal full of narrowboats.

As the sun set on this very, very windy but quiet afternoon, it was hard to visualise the industry that made this community.

How time moves on.

December 8th – Not another bloody sunset? Sorry. They are very good at the moment, and I just seem to be out when they happen. The one today was incredible, but I wasn’t in a position to get a good shot. I’d gone up on the Chase, over Cuckoo Bank and Rainbow Hill. When the sunset occurred I was around Penkridge Bank, and couldn’t get a good view. But the contrasting blue-red sky was astounding, and positively lysergic, really fairytale stuff.

It was quite cold, though, with a quickening wind that was really quite unpleasant on the way back. The Chase was as beautiful as ever, and oddly deserted. I don’t know where the year has gone – can in really be the shortest day in less than two weeks?

December 7th – The distraction was a murmuration of Starlings. They were hypnotic, and none of my images were properly in focus or did it justice. 

I’ve heard there have been such murmurations here for a couple of weeks. What happens is starlings flock together in large, mesmeric formations. These started as two groups, and merged atop the electricity pylon by Jeffrey’s Swag. Up there, they rested a while, then gradually took flight in a tight pack, swirling like a maelstrom. For 25 minutes or so they circled the Swag, taking sharp spirals, about turns, each time they came close the sound of their wingbeats disturbed the quiet. Eventually, they spotted a place they liked and descended into the poolside scrub to roost.

I’ve only ever seen this a few times in my life, and never so close. The noise, the Moire visuals as they banked, the sheer bird count were all astounding, as was the manner of their disappearance into the roost.

Glad I was out to see that.

December 5th – Without a functioning rail service, there was no alternative and I cycled home from Tyseley. The wind was strong, but it had died back considerably, and the rain – apart from a brief shower as I hit Park Hall – had cleared. I didn’t fancy the traffic up the main drag over Kingstanding with a side wind, so hit the canal all the way home. It got dark in Aston, and the front light – my trusty Hope R4 – was plenty good enough all the way. The going wasn’t fast, but it was steady, and much of the time I was sheltered from the wind. 

Reality checks came at Tower Hill, where rocks had tumbled from the steep cutting embankment onto the towpath, and Park Hall, where a tree had similarly come to a sad end. 

There was a cracking sunset, too, but I missed most of it, hidden behind the cityscape. The views over Hamstead were great though, and it made a change to see them at this time of day. I must head here for a sunset when I get chance.

I arrived home tired, but just pleased to be back, and safe. Many, many people had a far worse time with floods, the tidal surge and severe gales. My tribulations were nothing, and I did get in a decent ride, after all.