Galleries

April 9th – Hiding in plain sight on the treeline of a small copse on Sandhills, near Shire Oak, is a Tetra mast. Painted matt brown to blend in with the background, it’s not a mobile phone cell tower, but one of the nodes of the emergency services radio communications and telemetry network for the UK.

Erected in the last decade, Tetra is a secure system designed for use specifically with emergency services in mind. Working at a lower frequency than normal mobile GSM, it’s more efficient structurally, provides secure, encrypted communications and provides all the features required for modern operations.

The network wasn’t without controversy, as the earliest systems interfered with TV transmissions in some instances, and it has proven very expensive to implement, although the system is in use now in much of the developed world.

There are a fair few of these installations around. Look out for them – like this one, they can be hard to spot, but mostly share the same, three-element design.

April 8th – Sping, come she will. After yesterday’s shock at finding myself snowbound not once, but twice, I noted the warm afternoon and spring flowers. I’m interested in the daffodils at the moment – they seem small to almost narcissus proportions this year; is this a symptom of the poor spring? Blooms that are normally large and plentiful at Sandhills are small and diminutive this year.

The faux village green at Walsall Wood – a grass verge councillors tried to convert to avert the expansion of the adjacent pub – does look lovely with a riot of crocuses. 

It’s not all growth, though; the polythene lined field at Home Farm still isn’t giving up it’s secret, and the bowling green at Oak Park is being named as a possible Olympic training facility.

A mad season, indeed.

April 7th – I had a shock today. Yesterday, I thought spring was here. Today, I set off in very hazy sunshine for a ride. Looping around Brownhills and up to Chasewater on the canal, I discovered the snow hadn’t quite gone yet. The towpath from Anchor Bridge to Ogley Junction is more or less impassible, with sitting snow and ice to depths of several feet. It took me some time to battle through. Considering it unique, I was further shocked to discover the same situation in Wall Lane, from Pipehill to Wall. That road was blocked to some depth, too.

The only high spot in all this was the swans are sitting again at the back of Sadler Road. Let’s hope for cygnets this year…

April 6th – I had to go to Walsall, and the spring was definitely here. Still that cold, cold wind, but when I stopped, the warmth on my back and face was beautiful. After visiting the bank and running a few errands, I cycled around Walsall Arboretum. It really looks good now, and I can’t wait to see the trees with some leaves again. Walsall, too, was reawakening. A great day to teach a child to ride a bike, or photograph your toddler in the park.

April 5th – While I was battling through the week, so was nature, but in a grander, more impressive way. Come Friday evening, the snow remaining from the heavy falls of two weeks previously was lying only where the heaviest drifts had been. On the hill to the south of Mill Lane, the ridge-step hedgerow had clearly been a snow trap, and was dissipating itself in a beautiful way.

Coming through underneath, the keen, bright emerald green promise of a new crop. Winter melts as spring appears.

April 5th – Oh man, Friday was grim. It had not been a great week, and this day just crowned it. Coming home weary of the wind, exhausted from work and flat from life’s battle, I took solace in leaving Shenstone with the wind behind me. It was getting warmer, and there was just a hint of spring in the air. Pouring myself liquid down the backlanes, I passed Keeper’s Cottage, at Footherley. Gently collapsing into it’s own space, the barn will soon be gone, and I suspect the house will follow. Vadalised, unloved and decaying, this house has been empty for as long as I remember.

It shouldn’t be so. This would make a fine, welcoming family home. It’s a crime to let it just slip away.

April 4th – On the cycleway from Telford station, this sad sight. It’s a BSO, or bike-shaped object and is the kind of bike one might buy from a supermarket, discount store or catalogue for a low price. BSOs are usually made from the heaviest depleted uranium, bad weld and cheese. They feature the cheapest, most poor quality components, as they’re generally sold to folk who won’t ride them much. 

They are bought by retailers in bulk for between £12-£20 each.

This machine – clearly abandoned on the way to work (it had gone by the time of my return) – had failed in a way common to such bikes; the wheels, built by machines with no human involvement at all – are usually very badly tensioned, and can collapse, or ‘pringle’ (think of the shape…) unexpectedly. This one was sudden and catastrophic, ripping the rear brake apart.

Never buy a cheap bike like this, even if you’re flat broke. Look for something better, secondhand. Some real bargains can be had with patience. Riding a piece of crap like this will put you off for life.

Hope the rider got to work OK.

April 3rd – The day looked splendid from the other end, too. Tired of the relentless wind, I hopped onto the canal to tack through it a little in semi-shelter. You can tell that spring is really in the offing now. Things are a shade more green; the sun a touch warmer; nature just that wee bit more active.

I love the way the land falls away from the canal at Clayhanger Bridge; the picture looks lopsided, even though it’s level. Now the nights are light again, things are really opening out, and it’s great to be cycling home in such strong, beautiful light.

Darkness has reached it’s end.

April 3rd – A great sunrise today, clear, and bright, but cold, with the kind of chill that hurts your forehead – but still the sharp, evil, lazy easterly. The snow is gradually fading away, and by my return this evening, it had mostly gone. 

My muse this morning – Grove Hill, near Stonnall – looked beautiful. Some say it’s a mythic, pagan place, and it’s certainly beautiful, and a known landmark for miles. To sit under that lone tree on a summer evening is a joy to the heart. I adore this place.

April 2nd – Something odd happened on the way home tonight. Spring came to me. 

I came back through Walsall – when I entered the railway system at Telford, it was dull and cold. When I emerged, blinking into the light on Platform 1 in Walsall, the sun was oddly warm on my back. It was still bitter, and the easterly that sapped my essence on the way home was worthy of any winter, but I could feel the warmth. Pulling my gloves on in the odd entrance tunnel to the orphan platform, I noted the sunlight shining in from outside. From the Black Cock Bridge in Walsall Wood, it could have been an evening in April.

At last. 

I was knackered, but spring is finally tapping on my window. Welcome back, old friend.