Tag: sunset

September 8th – A great sunset. I’d been stuck in all day working, but my sunset escape was slightly hampered by forgetting my trusty camera, so I was restricted to my phone. Not too bad, I guess, but it didn’t capture a glorious golden hour around Stonnall and Brownhills quite how I would have liked. There was a delicious slight chill, and the sun was low any golden. A wonderful end to a lovely day. These days must surely be numbered now…

September 2nd – I just knew all day it was going to be a good sunset. I had no idea why; sometimes you can just tell. At teatime, that cold, damp chill descended, of the kind you only get in autumn and spring, and the sky started to turn pink. I knew it was game on. I took my time and headed to Chasewater, which has to be the best place to catch a sunset in these parts. I was surprised and delighted by what I found: not just a great sunset, but a yellow moon rising the east, geese honked and chattered in the dusk as they came in to roost. Bats skittered about my head, and moths became iridescent in my bike lights. Behind this was the most delightful susurration – the continual lapping of water in the darkness. I realised how long it was since I’d heard that at Chasewater. A fine thing. It’s been grim times, old girl, but it’s nice to feel your recovery at last.

August 18th – I left the house in the early evening to get some shopping in and pick up a takeaway. On my return, I crossed Chasewater. It’s really filling up now, and the recovery continues. The depth gauge on the pier now is only about 500mm clear of the water, and slowly, inexorably, the water is reclaiming the reed-beds and willows that populated the dry bed. I’d forgotten the joy of seeing a fine sunset reflected in the lake surface. Majestic.

August 12th – Computer bother kept me busy all day. I’m a mac user,and one of the really great things about Apple macs is that they don’t often let you down, but when they do, it’s a major pain. I spent the day recovering from backups and generally being stressed. At sunset, I ventured out for a ride to let off steam. I took a look around Clayhanger Common and the pond at Clayhanger in a gorgeous, misty golden hour. There was a partial temperature inversion, and a peculiarly concentrated mist hung over the meadow near the old railway embankment. A very ethereal evening indeed.

August 4th – I spun up round the cycleway on the old railway, and at the old cement works bridge over the canal at The Slough, the heavens opened. I sheltered under the bridge for 20 minutes, then made a dash for home. The canal – like the town – was deserted save for the odd heron. As the sky above changed from a threatening black to a friendlier blue and sunset red, it lit Brownhills up in the most wonderful, cinematic fashion. 

Man, I love this place.

July 29th – I followed my nose up the old railway, under the A5 and onto Chasewater as darkness fell. Despite feeling pretty rotten, I was fluid, and felt fast. I hadn’t photographed a sunset for ages – maybe because the recent ones had all been rubbish. This one, though, was good. I’d bee asked to take photos of Chasewater by follower Alex Wardle (@xswardy), so this seemed a fine opportunity. A lovely, soothing evening.

June 6th – My luck held. Arriving back at Shenstone far later than I expected, the ride was joyous in a post-rainstorm countryside that thrummed with life. It was a gorgeous, blue-skied evening, somewhat belying the poor weather due tomorrow. As I crawled up Shire Oak Hill, I noticed that the sun setting had cast an odd light behind the flats in Brownhills. Viewed across Home Farm fields, I still hate that new colour scheme. It looks unfinished.

May 27th – One of the routes I took yesterday is a very old, unmade track. Salt Street connects No Mans Heath and Norton-Juxta-Twycross. It’s rough, unmade, and passes a waterpower and one of the microwave transmitters of the cold-war communications system. A great, hilly ride, it’s a blast on a warm, summers evening. From here, I came over Honey Hill near Clifton, and back through Whittington, Wall and Lichfield. A great day.

April 21st – I didn’t get out until dusk. A problematic day, filled with frustration, irritations and hassle. I escaped late, and poured myself liquid along the canal to the old railway line trail near the Pelsall Road. Not having tried the new camera in the dark, I thought I’d give it a shot. I’m very impressed. t does well in low light conditions and generates far less noisy images than the TZ20, always that camera’s Achilles Heel. Only meaning to pop out for a short time, I messed around for an hour or more, just enjoying the absence of company. Apart, of course, from my old comrade the fox. He sat on the bridge at Clayhanger, as he often does, then retreated to the scrub to watch the mad human for a while.