Galleries

October 8th – I looked hard for inspiration in the grey gloom of late afternoon, and found nothing, and darkness had fallen before I found anything that interested me. Hopping on the canal at Walsall Wood, I headed for Brownhills via Catshill Junction. The stillness of the canal in the dark was as beautiful as it ever was.

When the nights close in, it can be hard to find decent photos for a while as you shift expectations of what makes a decent image. There is no longer the abundance of plants and wildlife in good light, and the sunshine that makes even the plainest view special is far more sparing in it’s attention; but in the night shot there is a whole range from quiet, lonely peace to the bright chaos of a city centre rush hour.

It just takes time to adjust to the darkness again.

October 7th – I’m fascinated by the way the scrub on Clayhanger Common has formed into a tunnel over the footpath behind the overflow at Clayhanger Bridge. This footpath is used enough to be fairly well worn, and the creepers, brambles and scrub have turned the track into a foliage arch which is quite charming and could, for all the world, be a portal to some kind of wonderful netherworld.

October 6th – I’d had to nip into Birmingham and Lichfield on the way home, and came back down the A461 at Summerhill long after darkness had fallen, so I thought I’d try some long exposures from the M6 Toll bridge there. 

They didn’t come out too badly for 30 second shots. Interesting that the traffic is so light, vehicles rarely stray out of the inside lane…. 

October 5th – This is an odd one. Drifting for a while on the canal around the Black Cock Bridge in Walsall Wood, this abandoned pleasure craft does seem to have been someone’s home for a while, with boards tied at a broken side window, and signs of recent life inside. There’s no boat registration visible, no apparent engine and the craft is just drifting.

I had thought the boat had originated locally, but I think that assumption is wrong, having studied previous photos.

I guess, if abandoned this can be considered flytipping, and I suppose the Canal and River Trust, the people responsible for the canals, have a procedure for this sort of eventuality, but it must be a real pain hauling it out of the water and disposing of it.

A curious thing indeed.

October 4th – Winching myself up Shire Oak Hill at Sandhills at sunset, I noticed the potatoes in the fields that stretched to the canal had been stripped of their foliage ready for harvest. I love that view of Ogley Hay and St. James from here, and it looked beautiful and autumnal. 

Elsewhere, harvested fields have already been ploughed, harrowed and replanted, with spring-like carpets of green sprouting winter crops, with almost springlike colour.

Whatever time of year, the farming continues.

October 3rd – Spinning through north Walsall on the way home, I was held up by this little thing peering up the road. Tiny, but with enough cute for several litters of kittens, she was apparently waiting for her owner who she’d spotted up the road.

The joy at the reunited pals, separated by a day at work, was beautiful and infectious.

A gorgeous little young cat, brimming with charm and life.

October 2nd -It was a gorgeous autumn day – chilly, but still and the  the sun shone, it was warm on the face. I finally solved a pressing technical issue on the bike, then headed out to Middletn Hall for tea and cake, then up the canal to Tamworth and back through Hints and Weeford. 

It was the kind of ride that makes you realise autumn isn’t that bad after all, and in the golden hour travelling through Shenstone, with the church occupied and a service ongoing, even the looming dusk seemed magical.

September 30th – The rest of Birmingham, from Snow Hill to Soho, from Victoria Square to the Bull Ring, was carrying on regardless, as it tends to do – the architecture as ever was a joy, as were the crowded streets and very changeable weather. 

Birmingham has progressed massively in my lifetime. But I still adore it. It’s a wonderful place. 

Birmingham – please never stop changing.

September 30th – Right now, Birmingham is doing what it does best – changing. I was in Birmingham for a sunny, pleasant afternoon that felt like the last of summer, and I continued my fascination with the demolition of the library, 103 Colmore Row and the Birmingham Conservatoire. The Adrian Boult Hall is now gone, the library down to it’s last scraps, and 103 Colmore Row is forlorn and truncated, much like the memory of the architect who designed all of them, the great John Madin.

There’s no time for sentiment, because Brum so doesn’t do that; the engineers are driving forward the change in their machines, cutting, smashing and pulverising the modernism to dust. And it’s fascinating, from the jurassic appearance of a resting concrete cutter to the antics of a pair of experts in a cradle slung above the devastation like some hi-visibility acetylene and helmet circus act.

It’s stunning, shocking and wonderful to watch. But I’m glad Madin himself didn’t live to see the crushing of his big civil dream.