BrownhillsBob's #365daysofbiking

On a bike, riding somewhere. Every day, rain or shine.

Posts tagged ‘tower’

#365daysofbiking Sensations in the dark


Boxing Day Saturday December 26th 2020 – Unusually, we’d had a family walk in the morning, in the Needwood Valley and around Hoar Cross, which was lovely but grey and very muddy. So instead of the usual Boxing Day afternoon blowout, I grabbed my pal and we headed back to The Slough and Old Cement Works bridge to try the new camera on the canal scenes there.

From the eeriness of the former railway trail in nothing but bike headlight, to the pool of spilled illumination on the canal footpath near the Jolly Collier Bridge, it was great fun.

A storm was coming in and the cellphone masts rattled and whistled in the wind. The whole ride filled the senses and felt edgy and intense.

The results speak for themselves. This camera loves low light. That’s the first digital camera in 22 years experience I can truly say that about.

from Tumblr https://ift.tt/2LdqEXC
via IFTTT

#365daysofbiking Feeling exposed

January 29th – Up on the old Cement Works Bridge, time to have a think and play with long exposure photography. With the lightening morning sky the results were remarkable.

I love how the trees seem out of focus as their extremities moved with the wind.

It was going to be a tough day. But at least I’d captured something interesting to kick it all off.

This journal is moving home. Find out more by clicking here

from Tumblr https://ift.tt/318dqPy
via IFTTT

#365daysofbiking Signal to noise

October 22nd – On my return that evening, I crested Kings Hill during a pink and blue sunset of the most striking kind, and grabbed a chance to catch another of my muses: The Kings Hill cellphone tower with the sky and lights of the Black Country behind.

Antenna, aerials, masts and suchlike have always fascinated me. I know how they work, yet they are still mysterious: Still yet powerful structures exchanging electromagnetic radiation with the atmosphere: Ever present, unchanging yet sinister and secretive.

And particularly beautiful against a sunset or dawn sky…

This journal is moving home. Find out more by clicking here.

from Tumblr https://ift.tt/36pzbfV
via IFTTT

#365daysofbiking Tenant of the latticework

February 27th – This time of year one view that always snags my attention is that of the cellphone transmission mast at Kings Hill with a sunset behind it.

Tonight it looked particularly fine.

I always admire radio masts and installations – like pylons, always the minimum necessary to support their load, but rarely inelegant. They stand solid, conversing in energies undetectable to human senses, buzzing with commerce and electrical energy, but otherwise silently exchanging data with the atmosphere.

Hardly anyone notices them, but they a a huge necessity of the modern age, and they fascinate me.

This journal is moving home. Please find out more by clicking here.

from Tumblr https://ift.tt/2StwamF
via IFTTT

January 29th – Kings Hill, my workaday home. 

Light is just edging into my evening commute again. I am nearing the season of the early spring sunset. Tonight, I caught the dying light on the twin sisters, and saw the Kings Hill communication tower trading it’s secrets with a glowing, clear ether.

It’s been a cold, grey, horrible month: With the shoulder injury and that awful bug, coupled with atrocious weather riding a bike has been a battle since before Christmas. But tonight, I was fluid again. Speed, like the light, is returning.

I hope this darkness has reached it’s end.

October 3rd – I’d forgotten my camera, I was heading home late and flustered, what an unfortunate time to witness an astonishing sunset. 

Looking from Kings Hill west to Wolverhampton, across the ether the cellphone mast silently talks endlessly to, the sky was bright crimson, rippled and utterly stunning.

And the phone didn’t capture it at all. Bugger.

Ah well, there will be other sunsets that hopefully, catch me better equipped.

August 12th – An run out after a busy day saw me investigating a few things I’d been meaning to locally. It was a bright but slightly hazy evening, and I took the opportunity to try some familiar zoom shots from near Fishpond Wood above Stonnall, and the perennial favourite Lichfield from the quarry gateway.

It was a bit too muzzy for Lichfield, but Wall came out beautifully, unlike the familiar towers of Shenstone. I suppose the mist and haze must have been sitting in a depression or hollow between us, unlike Wall.

Wonder what the science is here?

February 17th – I noticed something today I’ve passed many times but never stopped to look at – Wood Green Church. Stranded by the road system of Junction 8 of the M6, it remains gracefully marooned in the old village of Wood Green between Pleck, Wednesbury and Bescot. 

I have never noticed the elegance of the sharp roof, the beautifully red stone from which it’s built and remarkably detailed spire – and those clock faces are just wonderful.

I need to go and have a closer look – I can’t believe how long it’s taken me to notice this gorgeous building – I’ve been passing it for decades now.

The Black Country gives up it’s surprises slowly, and that’s why I love it so.

May 21st – Up on Cannock Chase, I went looking for a fire tower I’d heard had been rebuilt. These watchtowers are scattered throughout the forest, and I thought they’d slipped out of use; when I last visited this one up near Sow Street high on Wolseley Park in 2011, it had collapsed in the bad weather and was nothing more than a pile of rotten wood. Tipped off by fellow local historian Dave Fellows, I discovered in the week that it had been rebuilt – so I went to check it out.

Sadly, it’s gated at the top so you can’t get in, but it’s a curious thing with an otherworldly feel. As the rain began to fall, the clearing the tower sits in – on the junction of five or six firebreaks for best visibility – came alive. Solitary, quiet apart from the rain on leaves, I realised how much wildlife was around on a dull day; I could hear deer in the wood, and the fungus and flowers were wonderful.

Then the heavens opened – but dry in waterproofs, even that was a sensory wonder.

December 17th – I had to nip into Eddington early in the day, so I hopped on the train and sped down the Cross City Line. As the dawn threatened to break over Hill Hook, I caught this shot of Sutton Coldfield transmitter through an open train door.

This week hasn’t been great weather wise, and in such dark days t can be hard to find beauty. But I was glad I saw this,