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February 14th – And still, gently, slowly, almost imperceptibly, nature is shuffling things into place for spring. When the rain stops and the sun warms the earth, fields, hedgerows and pools, all the preparations will pay off and the cascade of flowers, green and growth will begin. 

Just as it does every year.

The canals are dotted right now with floating roots. These are bullrushes looking for a new home. In winter, they readily split from their parent clumps, and drift, looking for a decent spot to anchor and regrow. Scaly and ivory in colour, they vary from a couple of feet long to small nodules. 

Also, the Broom is well in flower. I’ve been erroneously calling this gorse for years, and apparently it’s actually broom. But hell, it’s bright yellow and about the only colourful thing in the hedgerows right now.

February 14th – Valentines Day, but not much love from the weather, which was back to wet and windy. I ’d been to Darlaston early again, and left in the mid-afternoon lull before the winds really got up. Unlike the ride in, the ride out was again wind assisted and fun. 

The traffic was a bit frantic in the wet and I chose to hit the canal again in Walsall Wood. An interestingly wind-cleaved tree near the Black Cock, and cutting across the new Pond and Clayhanger Common the landscape was again sodden and dripping. But there was a kind of peace to it too, which I appreciated. 

Crossing the bridge back into Brownhills, the moorings at Silver Street are busier than I’ve ever seen them before (except during a canal festival) – I’m curious as to why. The waterside has been unchanged for a good few years, now, and it seemed to take the boaters ages to discover us. Is it just a pure shortage of places to moor, or the fact that there’s no charge?

Really curious about it.

February 13th – An unlucky day for a number of reasons, but at least it was dry and relatively pleasant. The wind had dropped, and on the way to Telford, looking up from the platform at New Street Station, a beautiful blue sky.

Riding from the station at Telford, I was fortunate enough to spot the black ice – frozen surface water like glass, the width of the cycle path uphill from the station, dusted with what looked like the residue of a brief snow shower.  

Had I not noticed, I could have gone a purler there – one of my nine lives, i think.

February 12th – Still tacking into the wind into Brownhills, I hopped onto the canal at Clayhanger Bridge. The towpaths, of course, were sodden and hard going. The overflow here was working at full capacity and to a degree I’ve never seen before. This certainly made me think; this water is heading to the Ford Brook, which becomes the River Tame, and meanders through North East Birmingham, then Tamworth to Alrewas, where it meets the River Trent. The water from Chasewater will find its way to the Tame, too, via the Crane and Bourne Brooks. This is serios flow, from just one overflow. 

The Trent must be very full at the moment…

February 12th – Will it never stop? Have we somehow opened a portal to weather hell? After a wet, cold and punishingly hard ride to Darlaston very early, I left in the afternoon with a 30mph wind behind me. In what was a heart-in-mouth ride, I rode up Navvys Hill into Rushall at 35mph and made it home in only a shade over 30 minutes. 

Avoiding the danger of crosswinds, I tacked over Oak Park and noticed the bowling green here still flooded. I have been told by the Council that the flood is due to a broken drain, and will be sorted out. I was promised a press release, to no avail.

This still breaks my heart – this used to be such a fine little park. It’s like seeing an old friend become destitute.

February 11th – The weather is getting worse, not better, but did hold an unexpected surprise for me today. I set out in the morning to the station, and the rain was heavy with a harsh wind. Even with waterproofs, I got soaked, and sat on the train dripping, miserable and cold. Fortunately, the subsequent train I caught to Telford was very warm, and dried me out a treat. This was by far the worst commute I’ve had for ages.

At Cosford, the torrential rain had become heavy snow, and was setting fast. When I alighted, there was about 10mm. Although wet and cold, it was a delight to see and cycle in, and I enjoyed the scenery and spectacle. 

A couple of hours later, the sun was out and all the snow melted away. Glad I caught it, though.

February 10th – In the same forlorn landscape stand the abandoned, decaying former Focus DIY store. A victim of the recent recession, the chain it was part of collapsed some time ago, and this site has been vacant ever since. There had been DIY stores in this spot for a long time; an older building here was host to Big K and latterly Do It All, on whose car park many local kids learned to drive. Latterly replaced by this once smart, modern building, it now rots, a testament to commercial failure.

There is a persistent rumour that Asda will move in here; the rumour endures, like a similarly untrue one about Morrisons taking over the former Blockbuster store in Brownhills because those companies bought a handful of the previous owner’s stores when they went bust. This site was of no interest to Asda, and its future is unknown, but the empty building probably won’t stand long, as it attracts antisocial behaviour and flytipping.

The golf ball was just lying there, in the car park. I have no idea where it came from, or how it got here, so I recorded it for posterity.

February 10th – I came home in the early afternoon, just as the rain was clearing. I’d had to call in at Aldridge, so found myself in the hinterlands between Walsall Wood, Leighswood and Stubbers Green. This is a very scarred landscape, mainly from brick marl extraction. The geology of the former quarries here is perfect for landfill, and for decades, as a site is abandoned by the brickmakers, it is adopted by the refuse industry.

Now at the capping and landscaping stage, Vigo Utopia was a massive hole in the ground when I was a child, but now stands high above the surrounding area. Bulkheads tap off the methane and pipe it to a generator plant. Eventually, this mound will be a public open space, but that’s some way off yet.

Of course, the brickworks are still busy, and there’s still marl to be extracted, and there will therefore be further space for landfill. A vicious cycle of blight and nuisance, it renders this landscape hostile, ugly and barren, particularly on a dark, wet and blustery February Monday afternoon.

February 9th – I’d seen the little dog at Waitrose before – tethered to the trolley rail, he waits patiently and forlornly for his master. He’s a gorgeous little dog, but he does look so very sad. I could have taken him home.

The cat, on the other hand, clearly found me nothing more that a curiosity. Sat on a shed roof in Wall, he was surveying the comings and goings in the road below, and seemed a bit peeved that I’d spotted him. I think we met a couple of weeks before in the churchyard. He’s a lovely friendly boy.

There’s more than a hint of the Cheshire cat about the marmalade fellow, I think…

February 9th – The day was pretty grey, really, but had it’s moments. Fed up of the mud and slurry of recent haunts, I cycled down into Lichfield to pick up some shopping, and I returned via the back lanes around Wall.

The winter panorama of Hammerwich was stunning, but the wind was evil, and it blew me down Pipehill at a fearsome speed. Passing through Sandfields, I stopped to look at the Pumping Station, an architectural gem marooned in a sea of modern mundanity. I wish the preservation campaign every success.

At Wall, as the sun was beginning to set, I found my first snowdrops of the year growing in the churchyard.

Spring will come, I can feel it now. It wasn’t dark until gone 5:30pm..