Tag: urban

November 18th – A tough journey to work in a gusty headwind the morning after severe gales blew through. My earlier than usual return home, however was again assisted, so much so that I forgot I had to call in to pick something up in Aldridge. As I trundled up a very wet canal towpath on my errand, it was a very atmospheric sunset. That horse weathervane at Bullings Heath fascinates me. 

Also interesting – and now becoming visible due to the leaf-fall – are the industrial yards and excavations near the canal at Stubbers Green, including the brickworks. I still find the scent of firing bricks peculiar. 

Getting used to a new camera, too. Quite impressed with this one. Let’s hope the weather settles for a bit now.

November 5th – Off to Telford, and another wet, warm commute. That wonderful autumn has come to a very soggy, miserable end. I stood on New Street watching the people, signals and trains as the drizzle softened the light. I must have spent hundreds of hours waiting here over the years. This station is in my blood like the traffic fumes and air of the city, and although I hate the state of it, and what’s been done to it, I still love the place.

I find as I get older my relationship with urban spaces is getting more and more complicated. These are still my places, but I feel much more ambivalent about them now. I’m not sure I like it.

October 15th – In a factory yard in the darkest Black Country, a temporarily misplaced young hunter peers hopefully from a bund wall at standing water. There might be the odd frog, I guess, but no fish in there, sir. 

He watched for a while, then, as if called, suddenly flew  away. He seemed to know exactly where he was going.

This is why I adore the Black Country.

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 20th – I was worried for this spiny chap I spotted in Festival Gardens, Lichfield when I rode past on my way to the canal festival at Huddlesford.

He was active, and only froze when I approached, so I think he was OK. He seemed large and generally in good health, so I assumed he’d been disturbed. I checked for him only return a couple of hours later, and he’d gone.

First I’ve seen for a long while. Bless the poor hedgehogs, they are having a hard time in recent years.

June 29th – Passing through New Street Station early on a sunny, bright morning. The skyline looked as busy as ever with clashing architectures, wires, antenna and other urban structures. And in the middle, the buddleia growing from the signalling cable raceway on the Hill Street Bridge was flourishing, seemingly unhindered and unnoticed.

July 28th – Called to Telford mid-morning, I hopped on the train and headed over there with my bike. Being quiet, it gave me chance to study the decaying, scruffy footbridge that links Telford railway station to the town centre. Whilst having an interesting perspective effect, this ugly and intimidating edifice gives a very poor impression to anyone arriving at the town by train.

Very much a relic of the 80s, it’s from an age that discovered the social effect of bright colours and modernist design, but hadn’t yet worked through the issues of Brutalism – the coldness, isolation and intimidation of dark, sharp corners.

An odd anachronism that desperately needs improvement.

July 22nd – On an odd little side street, just off the main Walsall-Lichfield road, in the hinterland scrub between The Butts and Rushall, a remarkable display of feral roses.

Cartridge Lane South was orphaned years ago, and is mostly now just access to a dead-end housing development, and at the southernmost end, borders the allotments that mark the northernmost tip of The Butts. In the hedge there, some remarkable roses that seem to have been flowering for ages.

I wonder how many folk pass these every day without realising they’re there?