Images

February 10th – Returning along the wet canal towpath in almost total darkness, the going was hard. From the roving bridge at Ogley Junction, not much was visible, so I whipped out the gorilla pod and tried a long exposure shot into the darkness. Not too bad a result, really. It certainly shows how much of the residual light is sodium street light pollution, mainly here from the rear of the CNC Speedwell factory.

And it continued to rain. Rain, rain, endless rain.

Come on spring!

February 9th – Shooting back home to Brownhills, I passed the old surgery in Brickiln Street. It’s now a veterinary surgery – and a very good one too; but up until the early 1980s this was the GP surgery for Brownhills. Back then it was tumbledown, dingy and old; it hadn’t had attention for years, despite the best efforts of the doctors and staff to keep it clean. After decades of service, a new surgery was built, only to be replaced by yet another at the Parkview Centre in 2006.

This bungalow has been healing the sick of Brownhills – human and animal – for decades.

February 8th – Just a short ride today. I shot up through a deserted Brownhills at 8:30pm to clear my head. As I approached Anchor Bridge, I stopped to look at the new developments there. Houses are still being built on one side, but on the other, Knaves Court looks impressive in the night. A sort of sheltered living complex for the elderly, it seems to have a fine community and high regard. I love the modernity of the building, and the boldness of the colours employed in it’s render.

A fine place.

February 7th – I guess my hands must be getting steadier, or I’m getting better at this photography hoohah. Today was pretty much the inverse of yesterday; 24 hours before the morning commute was wet, and the evening rewarded me with a dry, beautiful sunset twilight commute. Today, the morning was stunning in it’s beauty, and in the evening, I got wet.

At the Arboretum junction, I was held, as usual, at the lights. Waiting to cross, I whipped out the camera, and took a couple of quick shots before the lights changed. Oddly for a ¼ exposure, it came out quite crisp even though it was handheld.

February 6th – A grim commute. It started dry, and with a decent enough day forecast, left the waterproofs at home. On the way to Blake Street, the drizzle intensified and I arrived somewhat soggy. I haven’t had much luck with the morning commutes this week. 

There’s still something captivating, though, about wet stations in the half-light. Oh well, here’s to a better day tomorrow. Hopefully.

February 5th – By heck, it was nippy this morning. We’d had the merest icing sugar dusting of snow, but after the almost humid warmth of the preceding period, the cold was a shock, as was the ice on the roads, particularly Wallheath Lane. I stomped and puffed into my hands as the sun rose at Shenstone Station; it caught the clouds beautifully and I reached for the camera.

Some things are worth getting cold for.

February 4th – At the other end of the journey, an hour and a half later, I noticed the hazy sun was out, and in it’s own way, Telford looked quite impressive. I’m not fond of the mirror-glass architecture thing myself, but it does look quite monolithic here. The station itself – recently refurbished – looked OK too, although it seems to be just a bit of a superficial tart-up. 

I haven’t been here for a good while. It’s nice to be somewhere different. It’s not like coming home, but I do feel a certain attachment; like meeting an old drinking pal or forgotten workmate.

For all the stick I give it, I’m quietly fond of Telford.

February 4th – It’s the start of a transient period, and it didn’t start well. Over the next few weeks, I’m all over the place, and today, I had to go to Telford. Leaving early, I pointed the bike at Shenstone, and went for it. Checking the train information before I went out, I was happy my train was on schedule. Getting to the station, I found it had been cancelled. To add insult to injury, the train that usually makes an extra stop in such circumstances didn’t, and thundered through the station leaving me forlorn for 30 minutes as it got light. This meant I’d miss my connection to Telford and be an hour late.

Fortunately, I got to New Street just as the late-running Aberystwyth train pulled in – a Benny Hill style dash through the station ensued, and I just caught the train, meaning I was only 15 minutes late after all. 

I had plenty of time at Shenstone to muse on the dawn, Monday mornings and the skyline. There’s something about that tower and it’s gargoyles that fascinate me.

Hopefully, tomorrow will be less stressful.