Galleries

February 26th – Today’s tasks in Telford ended early and I returned home at lunchtime. Mindful of the wind after a dreadful commute that morning, I came back to Lichfield for a cup of tea and hopefully a better journey home with a following northeasterly. At Lichfield City Station, I noticed that, despite the cold and poor weather, the cycle racks here are still very well used and clearly popular. 

I noted too, that the immense Pashley flying bedstead was still here – a bit less shiny, but still as loved. The guy who rides that must do stunt double for the Jolly Green Giant. That bike is huge.

February 25th – A dull, grey, chilly day. Again, I came back via Shenstone to avoid a punishing northeasterly wind, but also hoping to find some inspiration in the nascent spring. Sadly, there was none in the dull, grey, darkening lanes, but the spirit of the Footherley Brook remains.

April, come she will, but she’s a long time arriving.

February 23rd – Evidence of subterranean systems of an altogether more sinister nature can be found dotted around the borderlands of Walsall Wood, Shelfield and Aldridge. These odd enclosures – one in the fall towards the marl pit by the Brickyard Road canal bridge at Stubbers Green, and the other, on scrub near the end of Dumblederry Lane in Aldridge, are grim reminders of what lies beneath. They are access boreholes to the mine workings beneath, filled with millions and millions of gallons of toxic waste, dumped there after the mines closed. The dumping, over the course of a couple of decades, was freeform and barely regulated. The current operators of the site from which this dump is accessed manage it carefully. The boreholes, of which there are a number, are fenced and secured for obvious reasons. The one at Dumblederry lane has a breather valve fitted, to vent gas safely into the atmosphere.

February 23rd – There’s been a lot of work going on in the fields of Home Farm, at Sandhills, as seen from the canal at Catshill. Trenches have been dug along the fields a few metres apart, and pipes buried there. It’s either an irrigation or drainage system going in – it’ll be interesting to see what’s planted here. The machinery doing the job is fascinating.

February 23rd – Also at Chasewater, there’s some pollution happening.

This is good pollution, however. A casual observer might stand on the waterline of the now-full lake and wonder what the froth and scum is, gently lapping the shore. It’s the side effects of Chasewater once again being host to massive numbers of Gulls, who come here to roost on the water at twilight. 

Yes, tens of thousands of birds frequent this reservoir in the evening, where they rest, loaf and bob gently in the wind. Whilst they do this, they preen. The scum is actually bird feathers, plucked during preening.

Biodegradable, they will rot away, or be gathered by other birds for nesting material. Recycled, naturally.

February 23rd – The cows on Chasewater’s north heath are a fixture now. Kept there to maintain the heathland, they do so by nibbling the fast growing voracious species, and allow the hardier, slower growers to come through, and their poo helps nourish the land. Earlier in the year there was just four, but there’s nine now, and they don’t seem to mind the people. 

They don’t take any nonsense, either; they’ll stand their ground against impudent dogs and anything else that distracts them from their preferred occupations – namely loafing, eating and snoozing.

February 22nd – One of those days when you get back home thinking you’ve got a camera choc-full of great stuff, then realise you had the camera set badly and all your hard work appears to be fuzz and junk. Luckily, down in Sonnall sorting fish and chips from the best chippy in the area, the camera hadn’t yet been nobbled by my ineptitude.

Stonnall is an odd place – in a way, it’s lost is old villageyness, and is now little more than a commuter resort. Drowning in Metroland-style postwar housing, the history can be hard to find. But at night, a little of the old-world charm returns.

Stonnall is a salutary warning for aspiring village communities everywhere: don’t develop at the expense of the things that make you special…

February 21st – The first of the year. , but I look for this wee clump of daffodils mid-February every year. For me, they are the harbingers of spring. They appear every year at this time, without fail; the earliest daffodils I’ve ever experienced. 

They sit under the road sign on the corner of Wood Lane and Chester Road, just between Stonnall and Mill Green.

People will no doubt consider me mad or perhaps eccentric, but I’ll freely admit to greeting them vocally. Every morning, as I pass them. I feel I owe it to them, these small, slightly tatty yellow flowers. They tell me that spring is near, darkness is reaching its end and that better days are within reach.

It would be rude not to show one’s appreciation.

February 20th – Talking about making a bike your own, bike fettling experiments continue, and the maintenance jobs stack up. First off is replacement studs for the winter tyres. The metal inserts do come out, particularly if you skid, they tend to tear from their sockets. One thing the manufacturers – Schwalbe – pride themselves on, is that if you give them a call (They’re only in Telford), they’ll send you a large bag full of the carbide  rivet-like spikes in the post by return. With the air out of the tyre and warm water, it’s easy to pop in the replacements with pliers. I try to do this towards the end of the season every year.

On the higher tech side, I’m experimenting with some swanky mechanised gearing kit, but it’s been a bit of a challenge to get working, as the components all need updating to get them functioning together. Having got everything talking to everything else now, the mechanical experimentation can begin.

Fun times.

February 19th – A couple of snatched, quick photos in Walsall this evening, proving why we should always look up, especially in towns. Stood outside of the Saddlers Centre in Park Street, I was putting on my gloves, and idly studying the roof-line. Never notices the balustrade around the very top of WH Smiths, or the lion head corbel on the building next door, which has some very handsome windows.

I think it’s time to go exploring…