August 2nd – Telford Station is pretty grim, and currently stuck in some kind of refurbishment hell. I dislike the place, but it has no steps, so by any degree has to be better than Lichfield Trent Valley station, the rectum of British railways. However, one aspect of the station that just keeps on giving is the flower bed on the westbound platform. I don’t know who plants it and tends it, but it’s a delight all year round, and very much appreciated. Gorgeous.
August 1st – I was in Telford today. I noticed that to alleviate the congestion and overcrowding in the cycle shed, we have a new cheapo rack to use. Sadly, it’s of the worst type available – a wheelbender. So called because bikes fall over in them and end up with buckled rims, they’re also weak and the tubular supports will normally break off with a sharp kick. Trying to lock to them is lousy, too.
Still, they’ve just had the car park sorted and there wasn’t much left for the cyclists, clearly…
June 20th – Readers seem to be enjoying the wildflower theme of late, so today I decided to continue with it. Ragwort gets a bad press, somewhat unfairly. A member of the daisy family, it’s host to a number of butterfly, moth and insect species. Yes, it’s toxic to horses, but both have co-exesited for many centuries, and modern scares about horse deaths appear to be wildly overstated. Ragwort is a very hardy, tough plant with beautiful yellow flowers, The buds are particular works of organic engineering, too. Sadly, all too often overlooked for less common specimens, it brings a dash of colour to field, scrub and verge throughout summer. These lovely examples were growing on a patch of scrub by the M54 embankment in Telford.
May 31st – At Telford, the Cycle-to-Work scheme has been a great success. This project of the previous administration, like most things, has been severely curtailed, but it’s still a decent deal. I used to be one of only a couple of cyclists here, but now, on this summer morning, there’s barely room for my bike in the shed, and they’re due to erect another. Each one of these bikes represents a car not taking part in Telford’s rush hour, which has to be good. Over various shifts, there must be 50 or so cyclists here now, and some pretty nice bikes of all varieties. I like to see this.
Mayy 22nd – A glorious summer day that found me in Telford. Taking the long way round, I went through the town centre, and reflected on the nature of urban design and town planning. It’s easy to see on a day like this what the designers of the concrete and glass monoliths were aiming for, with images of downtown Seattle springing to mind. But the pedestrian distances between these edifices are huge, and never straight. Hard work even in summer, walking in Telford on a dark evening is frightening, lonely and seems to go on forever.
Telford’s failure of town planning is that the buildings were allowed to dwarf the people, and car routes were more important than those for pedestrians. Too many dark corners, not enough sky. A direct descendent from Birmingham’s failure in the sixties, this one is more nuanced, and largely of the 70s and 80s. It’s about scale, place and ownership of space.
April 30th – I was going to break up today’s images into groups, and then I thought better of it. Today’s theme was clearly late spring, early summer, and an utter contrast to the previous day. I left mid-morning for a short meeting in Telford with the sun on my back and wind in my face. The damp landscape hummed with life of all kinds. The rustling of new foliage, the splash of water draining away in roadside ditches, the song of finches and blackbirds, busy in the hedgerows. At Stafford Park in Telford, a line of cherry tress had me stunned, and closer to home at Little Aston and Stonnall, wildflowers brightened the verges, field margins and spinneys. The lanes were crisp and bright, the scent of oilseed rape had risen and everything smelt delightful.
Are days like this better for the preceding bad ones, or do they always seem this good?
I’d appreciate ID help with the flowers, please, if anyone knows.
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 3rd – Today was about the sky. What it threatened, what it was. What it held back. It was distinctly wintry after recent days, and as I arrived at Shenstone I noticed the old tower visible on the skyline next to the pronounced gargoyles of the new church. Feeling spots of rain on my head on platform 4c at New Street, I looked up. The sky was still being threatening. When I left work and arrived at Telford station, it was wet, miserable and grey. I had a long way to go tonight, and it didn’t look like the commuting gods were on my side.
Actually, it seemed I was wrong.
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 7th – A short visit to Telford again today. A foul commute to Shenstone first thing; heavy rain and a thankfully assisting wind made for a damp, miserable start to the day. Leaving Mid-afternoon, I emerged blinking into a sunny, if breezy afternoon. I took an Arriva train back to New Street. Thankfully, it was one of the refurbished 158 sets. Old 158’s (and their siblings, 153 ‘dogboxes’) are possibly the worst trains to get bikes on and off, with a narrow bike bay that is almost impossible to get an adult bike into. The refurbished units have made the best of a bad job by opening the bay out, fitting it with wheel bender racks and a curious seatbelt securing arrangement that actually works quite well. The solution is still cramped, however, and the doors make these trains challenging.
I was also taken with the clearly well used and loved ladies Dawes already in the rack; almost a Mixte frame, but not quite, that seems like an unusual arrangement at the back triangle. Love the panniers though, and the clip for the bar-basket. I never came into contact with the owner, sadly. It looks like a fun bike to ride.
BrownhillsBob's #365daysofbiking 