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February 12th – The fug continued throughout Sunday. Throughout the day, drizzle, sleet and snow, and the persistent, cursed absence of proper light. It was like someone had switched hope and optimism off. I found the day oppressive; I was caged, and I hate that. Hemmed in by the weather and a worsening mood.

I slipped out in the early evening to pop something over to a mate in Walsall Wood. A laugh and a shared moan about the lost weekend made things better. I returned to Brownhills, still in steady, cold drizzle, lifted, but still lost.

Bad weather will test even the greatest optimist.

February 11th – I can’t beat about the bush here: it was a bloody horrible weekend weather-wise and my disposition wasn’t sunny as a result, either. All the spring of the previous weekend had evaporated and I was left with cold, freezing rain, sleet and a strong wind. 

I had to get shopping and run errands. I had to get out. I went to Brownhills, and it did, to be fair, lighten my mood but the photography was dreadful. But there couldn’t have been a better afternoon to consider Ravens Court, the crumbling, derelict shopping centre whose private owners couldn’t give a toss for.

This foreboding, grim vandal-magnet seems beyond the powers of anyone, including the local authority (and lord knows, they’ve tried) to be sorted once and for all. The people with the power – the owners who are a land-banking company based in Mayfair, London – couldn’t be less bothered.

This place blights our town, is a cause for derision, prevents new investment and stands testament to the abject failure of governments to tame the worst aspects of speculative property capitalism.

It was raining in Ravens Court; but surveying this desolation, the rain in my heart was torrential.

February 10th – I had another reason to be in Shenstone, which meant making a call in the village itself, which is always charming after dark – even the hideous clock looks better when you can see the face illuminated rather than the horridly crude brickwork. I loved the shop in Main Street which was almost Dickensian, and the Railway pub, which always looks so warm and inviting.

I stopped, and thought about it: but where I really wanted to be was home. So I put the camera away, and rode off wearily into the wind.

February 8th – A poor photo, but this could have been expensive. In the bike shed at Telford, a brand new, barely used Boardman bike. Like the Carrera a few days ago, a Halfords own-brand bike, and like Carrera, pretty good quality for the money.

Sadly, the owner isn’t familiar with this kind of cycle rack – his front wheel is in the channel correctly, but his rear beside it. Hooked over the channel at the back end of the rack, waiting to get bent or snapped, the bike’s rear gear mechanism.

I gently lifted it out, and later in the day, found the owner and explained to them how close they were to a costly repair – works bike sheds are far from gently places at knocking off time!

February 8th – Back to Telford mid-morning and I noted the tree surgeons at work still clearing scrub from around the pedestrian bridge at the station, in preparation for the new one to be built.

This nonchalant, confident lumberjack was just hanging around about 8 metres up, his chainsaw dangling from a lanyard.

I so admire people who work at heights.

February 7th – Been studying magpies a lot of late. These black and white bad boys of the corvid family get a terrible press but the are resourceful, clever birds who, like all wildlife, are just doing what they can to get by.

This fellow was watching me at Telford during my lunch break as I made some adjustments to the bike. He came very close, and seemed interested in the light shining from the wheels as I span them.

I don’t know, maybe he has an opinion on gear ratios and handlebar rake.

Whatever, he was bold and curious so I recorded him for posterity.

February 7th – In Telford early morning, and I noted the progress on the tree clearance for the new access bridge was still ongoing. All the trees around the bridge have now been removed, leaving close-cropped stumps and if I’m honest, an open, much more welcoming station. Sad at the same time though, as those trees kept a healthy stock of berries throughout the winter for an army of blackbirds, who’ll now have to seek sfustainence elsewhere.

Sad also for the daffodil bulbs, previously shaded out by the scrub, who are now bolting in the new found light. I hope they get a final chance to bloom before the go under the constructor’s digger…

February 5th – Long exposure experiments I’m not entirely happy with, taken from the A5 bypass flyover at Jerry’s Lane, Packington and the Alan Woollatt bridge over the A38 at Thickbroom.

For some reason these aren’t as sharp as my earlier experiments and I’m not sure why. The wiggle of the road as it winds up Rock Hill was also not as evident as I would have hoped.

I need more practice, and maybe to read a manual or two…

February 5th – A day that started horribly murky and then picked up, and towards the late afternoon as I headed to Lichfield for shopping, the sun came out and once again spring insinuated itself in the flowers, the colour, the families enjoying the light and in a terrific sunset.

So lovely to see the world reawakening for another year.

February 4th – At Middleton, spring said hello once more. Softly, this time, in small clumps of snowdrops, in the comical antics of the small birds at the feeding station, and in the huge flock of pink-footed geese in the water meadow that must have numbered a very vocal 500, and was impossible to photograph.

I’m rapidly discovering that when I’m down, Middleton has all the ingredients I need to lighten my fug – good tea, cake, interesting wildlife, flowers and birds and places to explore.

A lovely trip, but oh, so cold when darkness fell…