Tag: winter

January 22nd – I couldn’t think where to go, so I just took turn after turn following my nose. I ended up doing two laps of the backlanes around Stonnall and Shenstone which was nice enough, and seeing the feeble light die and the house lights come on was strangely comforting.

I love these lanes. They have been my companion, my constant, unwavering friend, confidante and riding partner for 35 years or more. I know them so well, and sometimes, when the atmosphere or weather isn’t great, just riding loops of these familiar byways is enough. 

Sometimes, you stick to the reassuringly familiar.

January 22nd – It was hard leaving the house today. Occasionally in winter it can be, and on yet another headache-grey day, I didn’t expect to find much of note. A 25 mile ride was fast, and the bike felt good under me, but the lack of light was tortuous and made for very poor images. I looked in vain for something of the coming spring – aconites, maybe, or even snowdrops – but all I found was Mrs. Muscovy, the Newtown One, who seems to be getting friendlier – actually waddling towards me today until she realised I had no food. Either she’s been taking tutelage from the begging, uncouth swans or someone’s feeding her and making her tame. 

I hope Foxeh isn’t paying attention.

Way more skittish and frustratingly hard to photograph in any light, let alone this murk, the goo sanders are still speeding around the local canal, here near Ogley Junction. One of the three females present last week seems to have departed, but the remaining birds are acting like a close unit.

January 21st – It seems my optimism at the dawning of the light the previous day was seriously misplaced. Saturday was grey and cold and had nothing to give in it’s merit.

I slid out around dusk after spattering the bike: as usual when fixing up a steed, it always feels faster and way better, although what I’d done had not affected the drivetrain at all. Perhaps it’s a salved guilty conscience over lack of maintenance that makes it ride better.

Chasewater at night has lost none of it’s magic, and I guess we’re again heading into the season of good sunsets, which is another thing to be positive about, but as it was today, the lake and park were still and cold, save for the gentle grumbling of swans sheltering in the lee of the dam.

Spring will be nice this year, I’ve decided…

January 16th – A terrible, awful, wet commuting day. I got wet on may way to work, wet mid day when visiting a customer, and wet on my way back. The bike is so damp, when it catches the light it has it’s own rainbow.

I came back unusually to Blake Street, as the train I was on didn’t serve Shenstone, and it was just to horrid to come from Four Oaks up that hill. I stood at the top of the steps – the ramp is a long way up the platform, and the steps are quicker – and in that moment it struck me how odd they are. Open with no roof, they descend into a passageway under the railway. Painted cream and well lit, it’s like they once had a roof, and it was removed.

I wonder…?

January 13th – To my further disappointment, when I left work, there was no snow left to speak of, and it was almost warm, but very wet, although not raining. I don’t mind admitting I really love cycling in dramatically cold conditions, and I felt a tiny bit cheated.

But as I rode back down Green Lane and over the Black Cock Bridge, they sky was clearing and a full, mist-shrouded moon hung there. It was impossible not to feel cheered by it.

January 13th – I was hoping for more snow. I was mentally prepared for a very cold, icy commute. I awoke to little more than an icing-sugar dusting, and all the main roads clear.

I was interested to note though that other cyclists weren’t deterred. I had the snow tyres on and loved it, but the cycleways and towpaths were lined by tyre tracks, so maybe I’m getting risk-averse in my old age.

A nice journey in cold weather, but it’d be nice to have the real thing before winter ends. A bit of 2013 wouldn’t hurt, would it?

January 6th – A damp morning errand took me across the Black Country to Great Bridge, and in the small border of a household garden near the town centre, these gorgeous flowers, spotted with rain.

It’s quite hard to find natural, optimistic colour at this time of year, but I’m so glad I did. I’ve been missing the simple joy of flowers for too long.

A real tonic.

December 29th – I took a ride up to Park Lime Pits where I hadn’t been for ages as I thought the frozen towpaths might be easier to ride than the usual winter quagmire.

Sadly, the profusion of wildlife evident the day before was largely in hiding, although I did fleetingly see a large male fox patrolling his manor. The robins, however, were performing well.

This is a lovely spot that desperately needs the canal towpaths improving. Perhaps some of the money spent upgrading the ones in east Walsall unnecessarily could be directed here instead?

December 21st – And so, on the way back to Brownhills, a familiar subject that was today in darkness due to the lack of moonlight. The canal was millpond still and there was little wind – a situation that looks about to change, with incoming intemperate weather threatening.

I can remember really, really cold Christmases – with snow on the ground, if not truly white – but we haven’t had one for a few years now.

I suppose s decent covering of snow this winter is too much to ask?

December 21st – At last, work is over for the year, coinciding happily with the shortest day. The winter solstice is important to me, as once it’s passed, the days begin their sinusoidal rollercoaster of opening out once more – slowly at first, then careering to daylight as the spring comes. 

When I reach this point, I always feel I’ve survived. From here on in, things can only improve. And Christmas is here!

I passed the Black Cock in Walsall Wood on my way home; a pub that’s clinging on despite several changes of landlord in a short time, it remains popular and the welcoming, warm lights in the darkness made it feel festive and welcoming.

I’m ready for Christmas now, and a rest.