town hall – BrownhillsBob's #365daysofbiking

#365daysofbiking Devotional

Tuesday November 17th 2020 – One of the nice things about lockdown Remembrance has been the impromptu and additional devotional displays in towns and villages throughout the country. Decorating of railings, parks and war memorials have been undertaken lovingly and in line with guidelines, creating a sense of community endeavour that has sustained even in lockdown.

One beautiful example are the tributes at Darlaston Town Hall I passed while nipping to the post office on my lunch hour.

I particularly liked the purple poppy dog, the purple poppy symbolising the the sacrifice of animals in war.

My compliments and thanks to the people who created this. It’s gorgeous.

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#365daysofbiking Inconceivable:

October 23rd – Darlaston on a sunny day. Heart of the north Black Country, architecture, memory, history and nature.

How could you not adore this place?

It feels like my second home.

As I gradually reboot from feeling lost, places like this help me feel it’s worth the while again.

March 3rd – Which one of us. COME ON WHICH ONE?

And who is Peter No-one anyway?

Mrs. Brown you’ve got a beautiful daughter… but I doubt she looks as fresh faced as that after all these years.

January 17th – Passing through Walsall on an errand in the afternoon, I looked at something that’s ever-present, yet I seldom pay attention to; the Town Hall bell tower. Rumours say it was supposed to be a clock tower, but was never designed as such and is home to a carillon of bels, which sound rather splendid.

Faded, faintly gothic and well built, like much of Walsall, it’ll scrub up just fine one day. It’s also home to a pair of peregrines, who loaf their days out in all the local high spots dropping pigeon remnants on the townspeople below.

Excellent birds.

March 24th – It was a sunny morning, but cold. But it’s the cold, clear days when Darlaston really shines. Passing through, I still love the place. So many architectural gems in such a quiet, unassuming little town.

A real jewel in the Black Country.

February 24th – I took plenty of photos in the morning, as it was another wonderful morning – but sadly, I left the camera in the wrong mode and they were all awful. Luckily, I realised my mistake, and returning from Walsall at 7pm, I took some shots of a peculiarly deserted town. This seemed odd to me; when I was a youth, the euphemistically branded ‘nightime economy’ was normally well underway by this time, but it seems not to be the case now. Few were at the bus stands, and few outside the bars and pubs. Bridge Street was deserted, and the town hall looked imperious in the street light. An odd end to an oddly draining week.