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March 6th – I was passing through Wednesbury on my way home, and it was light – so I did something I’ve been meaning to do for years – visit the twin churches of St. Bartholomew’s and St Mary’s on top of Chuirch Hill, overlooking the Black Country.

I frequently admire this pair of spires from Kings Hill – one Church of England, on Catholic, both having watched over their flocks from this high vantage point for over a century each.

St Bart’s is lovely: large grounds with spring flowers and wide views surround the sandstone church, which has a great spire and beautiful clock. Weather-worn and stained with soot, this handsome church has withstood the ravages of the Black Country air very well indeed.

The grounds of St Mary’s were disappointingly locked, so I was unable to get a close look, but it’s an equally beautiful terracotta brick church with a lovely copper-roofed spire. It very much put me in mind of St. Chad’s, in Birmingham.

The ride up here really wasn’t too bad, and I’ll certainly be coming back to watch the seasons change. If you’re at a loose end near here, I can really recommend a visit.

March 6th – Spotted in great Bridge, in an alleyway just off the high street, these two likely characters, although only a handful of yards apart, studiously ignoring each other.

I love how now the weather is warming up, the flaneurs of the summer are starting to awaken from their cosy spots indoors, yawn, stretch and take the outside air now that the sap is rising.

When the cats are out, you know summer isn’t far away.

March 5th – Chasewater was a blessed relief, but a mud bath. The North Heath was so wet, I was surprised to see the red deer browsing it over by the railway, seemingly unconcerned that they must have been paddling in the water.

There was a well-dispersed herd of maybe 14 adults, peaceful and in good health. It’s been a while since our paths crossed, so it was a nice reward to see them on such a grim, unpleasant afternoon.

I noted with some amusement that there’s a deer run developing around the fence by the Nine-Foot Pool – I wonder if they’re using the canal bridge on the far side to avoid the toll road?

March 5th – Back to the wet, blustery weather. Escaping after a period of spannering the bike in the afternoon, the rain held off as I rode to the Orbital Centre at Bridgtown on an errand. I used the new road that curls through the industrial area that’s being developed there. It’s fast, but soulless.

This is a good area for such development – former brownfield, with mining and historical contamination issues, this land is scarred, ugly and ideal for the warehouses and factories it’s sprouting. But bless me, it’s a dull ride.

Nothing is on a human scale. Everything built here is huge. Everything is massive, and punctuated by huge amounts of open space.

Modern development is a curious thing.

March 4th – Lovely to see the jumble still popular – it’s a yearly tradition, and much of the stock has been coming to this longer than I have – and that’s been a good few years now!

As ever, I bought a few things, but the enjoyment is seeing old faces (’The wagons not got you yet, Bill?’) reawakening old scores and shooting the breeze. And of course, studying the steeds and curious solutions of other utility cyclists.

It was nice to spot a John Perks original. Older readers may remember his shop in Aldridge.

I very rarely miss this – it’s the closest thing cycling in these parts has to culture.

March 4th – A much better day, when it felt spring had arrived. It was the day of the annual Erdington Cycle Jumble, so a chance to rummage some tat, bag a bargain, scoff bacon rolls and talk to old faces. Following, I rode the canals of Birmingham, down through Brookvale, Witton Lakes, Aston, up over the Hockley Flyover to Soho for lunch, back along the canal to Small Heath, then via the Cole Valley and Plants Brook back to Sutton Park and home. 

I was particularly intrigued by the wonderful Jonathan Meades immortalised in stencil underneath Spaghetti Junction.

It was a great ride with periods of lovely sunshine, spring flowers and only one heavy downpour.

And the cats, particularly the monocular marmalade munchkin in Erdington, were great, as ever.

A restorative and lovely ride.

March 3rd – A bad day when it barely stopped raining all day.

I had to be in Birmingham early, and took short rides in the morning and early evening. The weather was foul, and my mood little better.

Thankfully, good news, a mind at rest and the company of a very good friend helped no end.

Some days make you glad they’re over.

March 2nd – As I said yesterday, the season of transition is upon me; and that includes the period of travelling – on good days, at least – in the golden hour.

I often talk about this magical time, when just approaching sunset the light becomes soft, suffused with pink and gold and changes everything it touches to a precious, rare jewel.

There are few better places to catch such a time than Kings Hill Park and the view of the Twin Sisters. Bathed in the evening sun, they looked even more majestic than usual, but so did the park, and the sunset on the way home along the canal wasn’t too shabby, either.

This’ll do.

March 1st – For me now is the time of the half-light. My morning commutes are well into light now, and most welcome that is; but evening commutes are mostly on the cusp of day and night, light and dark, optimism and pessimism. 

This commute started in a grey, overcast light with a strong tailwind and and the threat of rain that arrived as I rode the canal back to Brownhills. The sky though, transformed from a grey murk into a remarkable, beautiful, luminous blue which captivated me.

Even though it was raining, I couldn’t miss capturing this.

Within 10 minutes, the light had died and night had fully fallen – but I was so glad I caught the moment.