Galleries

January 9th – A beautiful morning, really, and although not very cold, after the warm weather of late it felt bitter. The sun shone, at least while I got to work – and everything had a gorgeous softness to it. In the light haze, the railway fascinated with its extended perspective and shine, and the row of terraces that back onto the junction by the station continue to fascinate in their recursion.

Even the Tyseley incinerator – working normally, as it does everyday – looked impressive; it’s water vapour, not usually visible, was forming plumes of steam in the cold air. Magical.

January 8th – The house that stands on the junction of Mill Lane and ForgeLane in Mill Green, Little Aston is still lying derelict, unloved and appears to be falling into ruin. This is a very large house in an exclusive, rural area. When occupied, it must have been worth at least £500,000, maybe more. I can’t even work out how such a property comes to be abandoned and left to vandals. This was once, clearly, a family home. Someone must own it, their must be a backstory. Nothing has changed here for years. Anyone know anything? It’s a crying shame.

January 7th – Talking of technology I’ve been interested to note of late that Birmingham Council – or rather, contractors working for them – are replacing street lighting on side routes with modern, low energy LED lights. I’ve been using LED lights on my bike for four or five years now, and they’ve improved massively. The lights being installed are an unexpected design, and seem to work really well. They give off a harsh, but clear white light. Interestingly tonight, when I left at 4:30, they were only just coming on, so the days are already lengthening considerably.

January 6th – Obligatory Chasewater update. The water level is now up 17cm on that I recorded on December 28th. that’s about 7 inches. That’s still a huge increase, but the fill rate has now slowed due to the end of the heavy rains. The water still hasn’t quite made it through the new bridge between the main lake and Nine-Foot pool, but is millimetres off, and there’s only the top concrete crossmember to go now – about ten inches I’d guess – before the water trickles over the weir into the spillway.

There is now a change in the birdlife. The gull roost on the water tonight was huge – truly huge – and waterfowl are happily pottering back and forth between the reservoir and boating lake. In the dusk, it was busy, yet peaceful as people walked and took the air.

I note the abandoned cottage north of the dam is still being carried to dust. I must find out who owns it. I have a feeling there might be a story there.

January 5th – Heading off to Walsall for the evening, the sunset looked great from the Black Cock Bridge, but I couldn’t get a good angle on it, and I was in a hurry. A couple of hurried shots over Jockey Meadows would have to do. It was warm, and fairly still; it was like spring. I know it’s not really spring – we’ve had no cold weather as such, and it’s early January, after all – but aconites are out in my garden, and the birds were singing in the gathering dusk.

A man can dream, eh?

January 3rd – This is the entry I wasn’t going to make. I really wasn’t going to continue. Then, I had my mind changed. You can read about that later today on my main blog.

So when it came to actually taking pictures for it, I was still wrestling with whether I should or not on the way home. So, with the gorillapod at the bottom of a tea-logged saddlebag (don’t ask) I headed for the industrial estate on Maybrook Road, Walsall Wood, and then checked out the rapidly decaying Wheel inn, nearby on Lindon Road.

There’s something about the actual act of taking photos I like. It gives me a buzz. I guess, in the daily grind, and terrible weather over Christmas, I’d forgotten that. The joy of the hunt. The pleasure in finding a really good photo.

Sadly, I think it rather eluded me today.

But hey, tomorrow is another day, and tomorrow never, ever knows…

January 1st – Happy new year! A great ride was first of the year, up onto the Chase. A clear, chilly day, but not terribly cold. Chasewater was rammed, as were most public spaces I passed through. There was winter sun, and everything was drying out; folk walked, spotted birds, or accompanied children on new Christmas bicycles. I watched families feeding the gulls from the balcony boardwalk on the south shore with water lapping underneath. That was a sight to see after so long being land-locked.

Further on, the Chase was similarly packed, but in the remoter spaces at sunset, the beauty of solitude remained. An unsuccessful badger spotting foray meant cycling home at dusk, and returning via Rugeley.

This was the Christmas break I wanted, not getting wet all the nine. Oh well, never mind…

December 31st – I returned to the top of the Black Path in Brownhills, where I’d accidentally found the flooding on the previous Saturday evening. This time I had a decent camera and could record the fact that, stood in the middle of the pool, was a lit and working street light. I suppose the connection point is above water level, but even still, it seems remarkable. The remainder of Holland Park still seemed rather waterlogged too.

I’m hoping now for a period of stable, dry weather to dry things out a bit. Wonder if I’ll be lucky?

December 31st – Sometimes, you come across a scene by chance that’s really, oddly, uniquely beautiful, and in a really unexpected place. On the footbridge between Poole Cresccent and Chasewater, over the M6 toll, a street light shines through the safety cage. I’ve never noticed it before. It’s like a portal. It fascinated me.

December 30th – I’d been going stir crazy, and the weather was more or less OK when I set out. I went round Chasewater, then up through Hednesford and up onto the Chase. Birches Valley was packed with people, dogs and bikers, despite the drizzle and wind, and so I doubled back up Penkridge Bank to Rifle Range Corner and on to Abrahams Valley for peace, quiet and a chance to do some badger watching in the dusk. Heading back on the A51, I surveyed the floodplains of the Trent. The wind blew me to Rugeley, and over to Breretonhill; but fought me all the way home to Brownhills. A great ride, but the weather was hell.

Hopefully, conditions will steadily improve now.