Tag: winter

December 30th – As I noted ten days ago, the sunset was now advancing from it’s nadir of 3:53pm. Since then the figure – top right on the bike computer screen – has advanced to 4pm. We are winning the battle, the darkness is in regret – we’ve gained seven minutes, and the gains now will only increase. A reason to be cheerful.

I noticed yesterday in Chepstow the sunset was as late as 4:07pm. Maybe I should move south for the winter, like some of the birds…

Note one unchanged thing, though: The device is still spattered with raindrops.

December 30th – I had to go up to Walsall Wood all day. The weather – in complete contrast to the day before – was dreadful. More heavy rains and high winds, as if we haven’t endured enough.

I finally got down to it and called in where I had to after darkness fell. When I arrived, the rain had been soft and drizzly, but when I emerged, it was heavy and harsh once more. 

Glistening in electric light, it did at least look beautiful.

December 25th – A ride on Christmas morning is traditional, but rarely this much of a challenge. I left in steady rain as conditions were looking to brighten a little, and I rode fast on muddy, wet rounds around Stonnall, Footherley, Hilton and Lynn. The surface water was copious, and following the recent storms, there were mud and marbles everywhere.

Still, as I rode it dried out, and the absolute solitude was wonderful. You’ll rarely see the roads so peaceful.

Here’s to a break in this awful weather.

December 20th – Oh man, am I unwell. Really grim cold, headaches and even my jaw hurts. Hopefully, it’ll blow itself out in a day or so.

I got out at lunchtime, again on Christmas errands – over to Weeford and Packington via Stonnall and Shenstone, then back through Whittington, Fradley and Lichfield. Setting off on a bright, cold day, it felt like winter at last. The scenery was good, the light excellent and only a headwind honed on Satan’s oilstone dampened my enthusiasm.

I do like the wind turbine at Curborough – considering how many people, including the local MP, were losing their minds over it at planning, I think it’s rather elegant.

Sadly, at Packington, the heavens opened in a series of short, sharp, heavy showers, which continued for the remainder of the afternoon. Battling home from Curborough into driving rain and a headwind was not fun.

Still, I have been asking for some proper winter weather, and that was definitely it…

Be careful what you wish for.

December 17th – At Telford after a flying visit, overlooking the station towards the town centre, a remarkable sunset to close the bracket of the wonderful dawn.

It had been a long day. Inbetween the two, I’d spent a morning in Darlaston.

Every Christmas I swear I’ll take it easy in the run-up. Every year I fail to do so and end up in a mad rush. Will I ever learn?

Mind you, I’d have missed this wonderful sight…

December 15th – The magic numbers are important, so very important.

This is the data page of my bike GPS, the screen where I keep the figures important to me while riding – distance, battery level, time, average speed and all that geeky stuff. Top right number though, is sort of a mirror of the one bottom right; daily sunset time and sunrise.

Today, 3:52pm. This should, hopefully, be the earliest it gets. From now on, the sunset gets later every day (although the sunrise continues to get a wee bit later). This number is one of my small motivational yardsticks that get me through winter and this figure has several notable points; but none is more significant to me than this.

By January, it will be after 4pm again. It may be weeks away, but the darkness will be retreating, and spring will be tiptoeing in.

Today, as I wheeled the bike indoors from another wet commute, the raindrop-dappled glass glowed at me reassuringly in the darkness, and I knew in that instant that so very nearly, so very close now, so soon I will have beaten the advancing darkness for another season.

December 13th – Chasewater was grey, foggy and very, very wet when I rode through near dusk. In a curious nether-world at the moment, there isn’t the optimism here of the new year, and with the wakeboard guys all packed up, there’s an out-of-season, end of the pier feel to the place, which I rather like.

Of course, not much was visible today, it was all just shades of grey fading into the lake.

December 11th – As the grey, damp days and dark nights wind on, it’s hard finding colour in the world, and it can be hard to keep this thing positive – but it’s not hard at all when you spot things as lovely as these polyanthus, recently planted at Telford station, which seem to be blooming just in time for Christmas.

I was making a flying visit at lunchtime, and the journey was long and fraught – but these cheered me on no end.