Tag: time

#365daysofbiking In the dying hours

December 31st – So it was in the dying hours of 2019 I found myself at Ogley Junction, where I spent much longer than expected. I watched, and listened and thought about my surroundings: An owl over the old boatyard, traffic on the A5. Headlights on Middleton Bridge. The flashes of distant fireworks.The chatter of waterfowl disturbed by a fox.

This year has been arduous, and in places, very hard indeed. Keeping this journal is and has been personally challenging in terms of time and effort required, but I’m so attached to it I wouldn’t dream of stopping now. It’s an addiction.

I may, however, do more days with one post rather than two when busy in future. But my aim is true, I still love this thing, this place and the environment I ride in.

Thank you for following me for another year. I have no idea why you do so, but it’s most welcome. And in the dark and quiet of that old bridge, it didn’t really matter: The attachment I felt was key in those fading, dying, terminal hours of 2019.

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#365daysofbiking Waiting for renewal

December 31st – New Years Eve is not a great time for me. I loathe the enforced jollity, the fake optimism for a time beyond an arbitrary boundary and the excess it engenders. I much prefer the days after, when everything settles and normality returns, with the opening out of the days and the promise of good times to come.

Stuck doing bike maintenance all day to keep busy, a test ride around the canal was fun after tea – the towpaths are starting to dry out a bit and the riding was fast and fun.

Brownhills looked festive but somnambulant and was actually very quiet apart from the odd burst of fireworks.

An unexpectedly fun ride.

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#365daysofbiking Washed out

November 14th – Labouring up Shire Oak Hill from Shenstone in constant rain, I began to wonder if by the end of the winter I’d develop webbed feet.

It seems to have done nothing but rain for weeks. I’m itching for a long ride on dry lanes. The Chase and Chasewater are nothing but mud baths.

And we’re hurtling toward Christmas.

Hope things improve soon.

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#365daysofbiking Submission

October 23rd – Another fine autumn day, and I must say, as it usually does, Autumn is starting to rest easy with me. It usually takes me a while to get over the loss of warmth, sun and light evenings, but when I do finally cave in, I find the season gorgeous.

In central Darlaston, the tree-lined roads, fallen leaves and sun-dapped scenery are beautiful and really enjoyable to ride through.

Yeah, go on. I can do this now. I’m ready.

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#365daysofbiking Completing the circle

October 17th – One of the things that makes me happy in autumn is the parting of ways of that year’s cygnets and their parents. Gradually, as winter closes in, that year’s clutch are gradually pushed away by the parents who still keep a loose family group but won’t tolerate the young too close.

This gradual transition into adulthood is visible about now as you meet lone cygnets like this one, hustling for treats on the canal in walsall, a few hundred yards from its parents.

For once I had some corn and it ate like they always do, like tit had never had food before.

Soon, it’ll join the main local flocks and will spend a few years socialising before pairing off and the family cycle continuing.

Another successful year for the local swans.

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#365daysofbiking Into the darkness

October 3rd – The sunset now is getting really, really early and is quite a shock.

That was a hard, wet and punishing ride into the wind. It was hard work after the week I’ve had.

The winter lights are on, the scarf is out of the drawer and the thermals are being checked and washed.

And so, into the dark I disappear for the worst half of the year.

I hate this, but you have to have the bad with the good, so here goes…

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#365daysofbiking The colour scheme

September 16th – But of course, in time autumn brings it’s own colours, and in their way, they can be every bit as vivid as those of summer.

The canalside hedgerows near Walsall Wood are looking particularly attractive right now… so all is not lost.

All the seasons have beauty and positivity. Sometimes you just have to look harder to find it.

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#365daysofbiking Toadily over

September 16th – It’s all about autumn now. The change seems to have been very rapid, but in reality it’s been actually quite slow and by almost imperceptible daily degrees.

There are fewer and fewer flowers now, and those that are left are the world-weary late summer soldiers, hanging on for a bit of late pollination – willow herb, dandelions, ragwort, evening primrose, bindweed and like this bedraggled specimen, butter and egg or toadflax.

Beautiful but sad, I bid them farewell for another year and look forward to regaining the colour with the spring. That seems like a lifetime away right now.

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#365daysofbiking Until next year, my springtime companions


May 20th – On the subject of things yellow, a seasonal sadness.

I guess it’s coming on summer now, and the first flush of flowering is well and truly over: the daffodils and tulips are long behind us, and late spring flowers like bluebells are dying off – as is my personal favourite, the cowslip.

Cowslips for me epitomise spring and the optimism of a new growing year; bright yellow, delicate and prolific now, they were once rare and I cherish seeing them as I ride around the area.

The ones I set on by guerrilla seeding at Clayhanger are going to seed now and I’ll have to wait 11 months to see these jolly characters again. But it’s be oh so worth the wait.

In the meantime I’ll carefully watch the seed heads develop and dry until the precious seed within is ready to collect, and I’ll gather a fair amount and sprinkle it in places where I think we need more springtime joy.

Until next year, my springtime companions. Until next year.

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#365daysofbiking Peace, at last

April 18th – The end of work for a few blessed days, good weather in prospect and time on my hands. Bliss.

This of course meant the last working day was everything busy, at top speed. Finally nearing home as darkness fell, I stopped to look at the canal as I crossed Clayhanger Bridge.

Blossom is out, the trees are that bright, lucid green they only achieve at the very peak of spring, and things were calm and quiet.

It’s only been a few weeks since Christmas, hasn’t it? Yet here, in the light, the green, and warmth again.

And me, myself, at peace, at last.

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