Tag: traffic

October 31st – And then, the return. In shades of pink, blue, orange and grey, it was cinematic and even the distant, noisy sweep of traffic was beautiful. There was little wind and noise, and the smells of the season just hung in the air.

I’ve made no bones about having the darkness of winter. Everyone who reads this must surely know how I feel about it – yet when autumn is old and winter encroaches, the gloom is punctuated by a beauty you never feel in summer.

October 16th – It had been a very long final day in a very long week. I was tired, my energy reserves were low and to to put it bluntly, I felt lower than the sea’s knees. I called in to Stonnall on the way home, and as I winched myself up Shire Oak Hill at Sandhills, I looked back at the Friday rush hour traffic rolling up the hill.

Dusk was falling, it was cold and beauty was hard to find.

Some journeys are harder than others, even when homeward bound. I felt every inch of this one.

October 6th – Traffic. Tell me when my red light turns green. I cycled home in rain mixed with sunshine, and it wasn’t a bad ride, really, but I’ve noticed in the last few weeks that the traditional winter grump is descending on the traffic, which in autumn always becomes tetchier and more aggressive. 

Very few incidents usually, but in the last week a guy passed so close his wing mirror clipped my arm; I’ve been aggressively cut up; and had abuse shouted three times, including tonight. My cycling hasn’t changed, so it can only be the truculence that seems to come with shorter, darker days.

I hate this time of year on the roads.

September 28th – Nipping from Stonnall over to Walsall Wood on an errand at sundown caught a misty, golden take on one of my favourite views: The Lichfield Road down into Walsall, and on to the Black Country.

Look at the traffic, the skyline. Then take in the sheer number and variety of trees. We may not realise it, but we live in a very green place. Long may it remain so.

September 15th – It was an intemperate commute, the traffic was mad and the weather highly changeable, derring between azure blue skies and sudden, hectoring bursts of rain.

On the canal in central Walsall, there was little to indicate autumn here in green nowhere, with just blue skies, verdant foliage and mirror-like water. Only the saturated towpath spoke of the untrustworthy weather.

July 8th – on my return, late afternoon, crossing the Black Country Route at Moxley; that enduring, wonderful view of the church, rising above the bedlam of traffic and surrounding urban life.

And yet, the trees, too. The Black Country is surprisingly green when you open your mind to it…

July 3rd – As readers who follow me elsewhere will know, I have been extremely busy with work and other stuff in the last few weeks. Today was no exception and very heavy: I had an 2pm afternoon meeting near Eastbourne to attend, so I handballed my bike on the train, rode across London Village from Euston to Victoria, arrived at my destination – Polegate – and then took advantage of a great traffic free trail to arrive bang on time. 

In the early evening I returned, again crossing London, and got home near midnight.

I loved cycling in London – around Trafalgar Square, down the Mall – and I understand a lot more why the city has such a notorious cycling reputation: If you leave 3″ of space, there’s either a tourist, a taxi or a cement truck in there. You have to be assertive, attentive, and dare I say it aggressive.

But what a blast.

I have spent most of the weekend after knackered. Maybe I’m getting to old for this shit…

January 31st – A sunset return on a very cold evening, with little energy. I came from Burntwood with leaden limbs, but the wind behind me; the combination of sunset, street lights and traffic made me think of the cover of Green on Red’s ‘Killer inside Me’ – beautiful, but hard.

I found it so hard, I hopped onto the canal, and wound my way on that back to Brownhills. I couldn’t deal with my tiredness and the traffic.