Tag: view

August 30th – From the top of Shire Oak heading into Rushall, I stopped to admire the view, as I often do. It’s worth clicking on that top image and checking it out closely – beyond Walsall, Dudley Castle is clearly visible to the left. From here one can see just how green and verdant our area is in Summer, and I do think this vista – with the church tower above the treetops – is rather beautiful in summer. I’m still no wiser as to what the tower central on the skyline is.

Further down the Lichfield Road the houses being built on the former St. John’s school site are making progress. Interesting to see the old roof truss still in use on the open gable. In time, the new houses will adjoin the remainder of the old school.

A dull, overcast day, but still plenty to see.

April 26th – I nipped down to Stonnall late afternoon on an errand. It was a hazy day, but pretty clear, and as I crossed the Shire Oak junction, I noticed that a patch of sunlight was moving over Lichfield. Pulling in to the quarry gateway, I thought I’d try the new camera on the view. Not too shabby, really; it was very misty, but the Old Lady of the Vale looked splendid, as did the Coors (formerly Bass) brewery tower in Burton. In the upper shot, the disused cooling towers of Willington, near Derby, are clearly visible. 

I never tire of this view, and I love the way it’s greening up as the leaves come on.

March 12th – Despite it being a lovely, misty afternoon, the photoraphy was surprisingly lousy. I did, however, get a pleasing photo in of a very challenging view: Ogley Hay from Shire Oak Hill.

I love this view, but like all the views from Shire Oak, it’s difficult to capture in a photo due to too much stuff being in the way in the foreground; the view of Walsall to the southwest is cluttered, as is the view of Lichfield to the northeast. To the northwest, the view of Brownhills is actually enchanting to me, but translating it to an image never quite works.

I’m quite pleased with these, although the haze distorts them a little.

October 24th – In Tyseley, I left the station in the mid-morning, with a bright autumn sun cheering me up and making me feel positive rolling the past few days of rain, mud and wind. I stopped on the bridge in Wharfdale Road to look back up the line towards the city. I’ll nvere tire of that view over the rooftops of Small Heath and Bordesley. 

The pall of smoke was from a steam locomotive under test at the rRailway Museum. I couldn’t see it from where I was, but I could hear it and it’s lovely steam whistle.

Setember 5th – Tyseley, about 6:30pm, heading for Darlaston. There was a soft sun, combining with city haze, smog and no wind. The shapes of the city looked gorgeous. I’d forgotten over the summer that it could look like this. I was tired – blitzed, to be honest – but this pulled me up short. I don’t think anyone else noticed.

I love this city. This place. This moment in time. The rooftops, spires, tower blocks, chimneys. It felt like the city was mine. It’s nice when that happens.

August 1st – I came home over Shire Oak Hill, and stopped at the old quarry entrance to see if there was a decent view now – recently, the southern boundary of the site has had a mound landscaped, which partially obscures one of the best views around here.

Thankfully, it was still good for a view of the distant Lichfield Cathedral. and although the day was hazy, it was still clear enough to pick out the Coors (formerly Bass) silo at Burton and the wooded hill of Swadlincote. 

This is a great view, and not many folk really seem to notice it.

June 30th – Up on Barr Beacon for the Bands on the Beacon gig, it was a bit grey when I left. The view from up there is still remarkable, tough, and presents a great panorama not just of Walsall, but most of the Black Country. great to see St. Matthews still so prominent in a landscape of modern high-rise buildings, and also pleasing to note the greenery in a formerly very urban environment.

June 11th – Back in Tyseley, and a change in the weather; it was dark and overcast, but rather warm as I dashed to the station. The changeable weather was reflected in the view of Birmingham City Centre from the railway bridge. Patches of light, and dark, dark clouds, threatening rain. I love this view, and everything it contains; it is Birminghame for me. The train tracks, trees, transmission towers and pub clock, giving way to office block and skyscraper.

Birmingham is a patchwork.

October 13th – My town, for better or worse.

I have a strange relationship with Walsall these days. Pass through it regularly, love almost all of it, but bits I used to know like the back of my hand are now alien to me. Certainly, shopping there is a grim experience these days. I was in town anyway, and wanted to see the Damien Hirst exhibition at the New Art Gallery. I like Hirst a lot, but the exhibition left me cold – I really wanted to see stuff like Mother and Child Divided again, yet what was here seemed to be the odds and ends of the artist’s work. The way it had been mixed in with the Garman Ryan collection was clever, though, and I did admire the guile of the people responsible for doing that, particularly the placement of the wallpaper.

I hadn’t been in the Gallery for a long while, and not on the roof terrace since the building opened a decade before, as when I’d visited, it had always been shut. Today, it was open, and I took photographs of my town – the place I once haunted like a skinny, music-obsessed ghost. I knew every shop, every bar, every alleyway, every cafe. Yet getting older dragged me away, and Walsall befell the same fate as other such post-industrial towns; ravaged by the inexorable rise of out-of-town and fringe retail developments, atrocious town planning and the encroachment of internet shopping,  it now holds little for me. The independent shops have gone, replaced by nail-bars, hairdressers, pound shops and money lenders. Many of the heritage buildings I could see from this view ten years ago are gone, lost to the arsonists that seem intent on depriving us of a cultural past. The bad planning goes on, the retail sheds obscuring or wrecking formerly decent vistas.

I still love this place with all my heart – as Bill Caddick put it, ‘Sore abused, but not yet dead’, but I fear I’m losing it forever. What’s gone, cannot be put pack, and there just doesn’t seem to be the breadth of vision, or cast of hand to build something new. Stuck in a kind of decay-limbo. I could cry.

I did what I always do at times when Walsall, and my past, makes me feel like this: I got back on my bike, cycled up to Caldmore, and reminded myself what community was about.

That’s my Walsall, right there.

August 17th – It was very grey and spotting with rain as the heavy wind blew me back up Shire Oak Hill later in the day. Oddly, the gates to Shire Oak Landfill – the former quarry at Sandhills – had been left open, and I took the opportunity to have a play with the zoom mode on the camera. The view from this spot is always great, although hard to capture in photos, but despite the grey murk of the day, the images weren’t too bad. Springhill, Hammerwich, Wall and Lichfield were all clearly visible.