January 2nd – So, back to normal. The festivities over, Christmas decorations down, the rain, just for now, gone. This time last year I was struggling to ride at all. This Christmas has been a little odd: very little riding for the sake of it, and fearsome bad weather. I’m hoping for a better new year; maybe we’ll get a proper summer this time, not just warmer rain, although on the canal in Brownhills, early evening, early January, it was warm, clear and dry. Perhaps it’s a good sign.
September 16th – Silver Waters (oh lord, that’s a preposterous name) is coming on apace. Most of the foundations have now been laid, and a show home has positively sprung up on the patch of wasteland off Silver Street, Brownhills. Fortunately, the doom-mongers predictions about the diggers finding the remains of the swine disease/foot and mouth cull from Swingbridge Farm in the 1960s have been unfounded (not surprising, really, as the pits for that were dug adjacent to the farm and are now lying beneath public open space).
I must say, those are massive drains, there. They seem a bit excessive for a relatively small number of dwellings. Wonder what the reason for that is?
July 29th – I had loads of work to do all day, and wasn’t feeling too bright. I took a spin out late evening, as the light died; it cheered me up no end. Hopping on the canal at Pier Street, around the bend opposite the Watermead, a young fox was learning to hunt. Sadly, his intended target – a mallard – was far sharper than him and flapped away in a bad-tempered fug of splashing, honking and feathers. Meanwhile, the woodpigeons, realising that Reynard Jr. was no threat, looked on in interest. Sorry about the poor quality pics, but I had to share.
April 21st – I didn’t get out until dusk. A problematic day, filled with frustration, irritations and hassle. I escaped late, and poured myself liquid along the canal to the old railway line trail near the Pelsall Road. Not having tried the new camera in the dark, I thought I’d give it a shot. I’m very impressed. t does well in low light conditions and generates far less noisy images than the TZ20, always that camera’s Achilles Heel. Only meaning to pop out for a short time, I messed around for an hour or more, just enjoying the absence of company. Apart, of course, from my old comrade the fox. He sat on the bridge at Clayhanger, as he often does, then retreated to the scrub to watch the mad human for a while.
January 20th – Pottering around Brownhills, getting some shopping in and running errands on a wet Friday night, I wanted some night pictures, and oddly, headed for the canal. These flats near Cooper’s Bridge on the Watermead, looked warm and homely in the blackness. I’ve always been fascinated by the chutzpah of the developers of the Watermead. Built on what was a meadow around a decade ago, all the roads are named after varieties of birdlife eradicated from the area by its construction. Heron Close. Curlew Drive. Moorhen Close my bloody arse…
December 10th – The moon was remarkable. Heading along the canal by the Watermead Estate, I noticed it behind me; orange and masked by banded cloud. I missed the eclipse, but there was something about that big, orange lunar glow that I found reassuring. It doesn’t seem long since that moon was new, and time is passing. Soon, it will be the shortest day, and life will begin to open out again; the moon will continue its inexorable transitions, and soon there will be lightness and spring again. A lunar chronicle. Winter draws on…
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