March 8th – It was another wet, blustery afternoon and I had to go to Birmingham for a working lunch then come back to Walsall for a legal meeting.
The rain when I arrived at Walsall was horrendous.
I know it’s still winter, and that the early spring lulled me into false optimism, but I’d quite like an break from the wind and rain if that’s OK please.
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March 6th – Returning home, I called in at the off licence on the High Street for a treat or two. It had been a long day. Leaving the shop, I nearly trod on this slug, who was clearly travelling somewhere with some intent.
I hate killing anything accidentally, so I photographed it and eased it out of the way with a discarded lolly stick.
I’d had good news, so this wasn’t really a day to pass up the chance to do another creature a good turn…
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March 6th – I had an important hospital appointment in Cannock, a place I rarely go. Cannock Hospital is actually lovely, and a model of the best of the NHS, but Cannock itself, I find a bit otherworldly. It’s nice enough, suffering like all post industrial town centres, with odd, lingering pointers to a more prosperous, or at least busy past.
The brutalist concrete relief mural featuring local industrial icons – pit heads, Caterpillar vehicles, Rugeley Power Station and GEC seems to have been transplanted from an earlier building or situation. It’s almost soviet.
Everyone seems to know of Walsall’s hippo, but who ever dares mention Cannock’s concrete elephant? How did that come to be? There’s a story there.
On this wet, grey and unpleasant day, I found Cannock solemn, but pleasant, and I shall come back – mainly to see if it wears it’s cloak of quiet melancholy on nice days, too.
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January 16th – I was tired, it was late and cresting the Black Cock Bridge wearily I suddenly realised there was a hazard about: Hitting the higher ground towards Brownhills coupled with the semi rural nature of Green Lane, I could see in places the familiar sheen of frost.
The road was gritted well. But towards the kerbs and in places the grit hadn’t yet reached, ice lurked.
A warm winter has made me complacent. Time to be careful.
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December 15th – The weather remained grim, and so did my mood. I had a lot to do still, with work end-of-year paperwork still bogging me down and medical tests scheduled for early in the coming week. My stomach was not good, and the rain relentless.
At Wharf Lane, pausing under the bridge for a rest and listening to the music of the rain on the water was almost therapeutic, and sustained me; at least until it started to get into my shoes.
The return home was unpleasant.
That Christmas spirit continues to be elusive.
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#365daysofbiking Fade to grey:
December 9th – A throughly grey unpleasant afternoon leeched into dusk as I took a spin around Chasewater, taking a break from my workload. I saw no deer, and even the birdlife seemed suppressed, perhaps due to the unpleasant wind.
It’s was utterly colourless, wet and my heart was heavy. Days like this get me down.
#365daysofbiking Stationary traveller:
November 28th – Birmingham New Street, not long after dawn on a grey, wet, miserable winter morning.
Despite it’s faults, despite it’s awful turd-polishing in the Grand Central fiasco, despite it’s continual propensity to be host to disappointment and frustration, this subterranean station is in my heart and soul, and feels like home.
The lights, the people, even, no – especially the steel horse.
I love this city. I love this place. With all my heart. But often, it feels unrequited.
#365daysofbiking The last obstacle”
November 8th – Returning from Birmingham that evening, the weather was still grim and I stopped to take a photo of the traffic at the Shire Oak crossroads.
Shire Oak Hill is like a homecoming to me. it’s the last obstacle to sanctuary before a gentle and lovely roll downhill into Brownhills. Light or dark, good weather or bad, cresting this hill is always and absolute joy.
At night, in rain, it’s also a fascinating collage of reflection, light and hard surfaces. It fascinates me.
#365daysofbiking Little stars:
October 16th – Barley light on a damp, but not raining morning in Darlaston on the verge outside my workplace, the shrooms were rising to shine.
I’m not sure what the lovely chestnut brown ones are – possibly some strain of inocybe – but their colour was rich and deep and rather wonderful.
Nearby, the early light caught one parasol, sheltering a second, presumably from the night’s rain.
Sorry, but I really am finding the fungus fascinating this year.
#365daysofbiking Lost weekend:
October 14th – Sunday was again bad for most of the daylight hours, only improving during the late afternoon. The wind had again been strong, and continual rain again kept me in. I got things done though, and that in itself made me feel better.
Nipping out for the shopping I’d forgotten the day before, I noted the swan family by Pelsall Road where thriving, and they didn’t seem to mind the gloom.
I’m curious though, about Morris and his lights: They haven’t actually been on the last couple of days at least. I wonder if they’re broken? That’s sad if they are.
BrownhillsBob's #365daysofbiking 