January 10th – I was returning home early, and caught the sunset.
Over the fields near Green Lane it looked gorgeously dramatic in white, gold and blue, a really dramatic, gorgeous winter sunset.
I just wish I’d been in a better position to capture it…
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January 9th – One of the more comedic things about curating this journal and blog is that I comment a lot about a geographical local feature with a very amusing name – the Black Cock bridge. Named after the pub nearby, the Black Cock has long been the source of much schoolboy innuendo and humour, but is actually a decent, old fashioned pub that always looks welcoming when I pass, particularly on a dull winter evening.
It does, of course, have a far cruder colloquial name I shan’t detail.
However, I do love the thought of sweaty-palmed people banging Black Cock into search engines, which then return multiple hits to this journal rather than the desired subject…
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January 6th – On a weary, late return from work, mercifully with the wind behind me, I stopped on cresting the remarkably steep Black Cock Bridge, and looked downhill towards the Coppice Road, as I’ve done many, many times before.
It looks like a great downhill, but parked vehicles, a T junction at the bottom and an abundance of cats and kids in summer make it too risky to pile in.
One thing I noted tonight was the orange of the sodium streetlights. That will soon go, as the local council have now announced a plan to replace all Walsall’s old style lights for new, white energy efficient ones, which it has to be said are better for visibility, with less light pollution and lower energy.
But sadly without the comfy, warm orange glow that glistens so well on tarmac.
Oh well.
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January 4th – And glancing at the GPS mid-ride, I noticed a simple, delicious fact: Sunset was now over ten minutes later than it was on the shortest day, ten days ago.
Already, we are reclaiming the night.
With drier, better weather this has meant the blessed, absence of dark until gone 4:30pm.
Winter, I’ll beat ya yet, you old rogue.
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January 4th – It wasn’t particularly late – I think about 5pm, maybe 6. I was test riding after repairs. I’d relented and cleaned the bikes and done to urgent jobs on them. So a test ride around the bounds of Brownhills was very much in order.
I’d dropped down off Castle Gate onto Chester Road to burn in new brake pads, but as I pottered up the Chester Road back towards Brownhills, I realised there was next to no traffic and hardly anyone about.
I guess it’s the post-Christmas lull, but even the Shire Oak pub looked sleepy in the evening.
A peaceful, but somewhat odd, journey.
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December 28th – A stretch up to Walsall Wood on my way to Aldridge in one of those remarkable but fairly rare blue dusks we sometimes get at this time of year.
There must be a meteorological or astronomical reason for them, but I have no idea other than the fact that they are really, really beautiful. The view from Hollanders Bridge glowed in the cold night.
Reall, really gorgeous.
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December 24th – I encounter robbers and hoodlums on my return. They spotted food in my bag and were keen to levy their toll for safe passage, but I shooed them off with the aid of my pump.
I adore the Canada geese despite their aggression. These guys were healthy and full of life and fiercely protective of their group and patch.
Got to respect that really.
They did get some corn from my pocket stash once they settled down…
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December 21st – A quick stretch up to Walsall Wood for some errands and to deliver cards. Just time for another shot of St. Johns, whose Christmas tree – donated by the local councillors every year – looks so gorgeous.
A lovely symbol of the season on the first day winding down for Christmas.
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December 16th – Another wet day, and again the camera stayed most in it’s case. But returning through Walsall Wood, it was nice to see the tree and the old church looking warm and welcoming; there was clearly an event inside.
I’m not a religious man but that did make for a lovely scene on a very dark evening.
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December 4th – Pottering to work on a grey day, I spotted a particularly disdainful puss near Walsall Wood who certainly wasn’t going to give the likes of me the time of day, no matter how I called it.
You haven’t been properly ignored in life until you’ve been ignored by a domestic British cat.
Oh well, looks like a nice puss… From behind.
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