December 27th – Barons Court is an unusual thing to have locally. It’s a reasonably popular hotel, and it’s been there for several decades now. Despite it’s incongruous location amongst the factory units and marl holes of southwest Walsall Wood, it seems to do reasonably well and is popular for weddings, conferences and the like.
December 27th – A short, cold and damp ride at teatime took me, somewhat unusually, into Walsall Wood and Aldridge. I don’t normally cycle this way, as I loathe Salters Road and Northgate for the narrowness and madness of the traffic. Today, though, it was calm in the mid-holiday period lull. As I passed the Fire Station, I reflected on the folk working there, on shift, waiting for a shout. They’ve been ready to leap in those engines all Christmas. People have been manning this station continually for years, holidays, bad weather, you name it. All just to protect us. They’re wonderful folks.
December 23rd – The Christmas spirit has taken a while to arrive with me this year. Nothing unpleasant, but with the dismal weather and concentration of work it’s been difficult to focus. Spinning back home tonight to Brownhills from Cannock Chase, I spotted this boat at Catshill in Brownhills. I love it and it made for a very unexpected breath of festive cheer…
December 22nd – The rain was evil on my return through Lower Stonnall, aided and abetted by a low but sharp wind. As I came back down Gravelly Lane, I stopped to look at Ivy Cottage in the dusk. Ivy Cottage is a landmark for me: it stands at an oblique, curious angle to junction, and it’s lights indicate that I’m nearly home, and have to turn right. It’s a lovely cottage, and looks best in spring. I know the seasons are advancing by this cottage, and the degree of night-time when I pass it on my return from work. Yesterday was the shortest day and winter solstice, from now, for me, spring starts. This is not trivial. From here, everything opens out.
A reader of this journal remarked to me a few weeks ago that I sounded tired in my posts. It’s not tiredness as such, it’s fatigue; the attrition of the dark and bad weather, and the knowledge that worse was to come. For an outdoors person, the nights closing in seems calamitous, inevitable, and depressing. I feel it acutely. From now, slowly, almost imperceptibly, daylight extends. It will creep gradually into my journeys, and in a few weeks, rather than the death and retreat I’ve seen since summer passed, life will return and nature will awaken. I know there’s bad weather to come, but having seen the shortest day, I can now face anything.
I can understand why everyone from the Celts to the Romans and Christians had a midwinter celebration. They felt this point was a symbol of time’s passage. I concur. From here, the riding gets better and better.
December 21st – Further down the village, the Old Swan always looks busy and welcoming in Main Street, Stonnall. Tonight, the village was quiet, apart from the inevitable queue from the chippy, but the pub looked busy. It always does.
For the benefit of @thestymaster, those christmas lights are green, OK? I checked.
December 21st – A day without rain, at last. I headed to Birmingham (without my bike) to do Christmas shopping, then returned home exhausted. After a restorative strong coffee, I headed down into Stonnall to bag fish and chips for tea from the Stonnall chippy – the best chip shop in the area. On the way, I noticed that Wordsley House looks lived in again. Lights were on around the back, and work seems to be starting. This is a handsome house, with a long history. Lets hope it has owners who respect it.
December 19th – I wasn’t out long. It was just too unpleasant. But one place that does look nicer and nicer – particularly on a chilly, dark night – is The Swan, on the Pelsall Road. Saved from almost certain loss, the pub survives – and thrives, by all accounts – as a traditional, no-nonsense family and community boozer. No frills, just good beer and good company.
And that’s all you need, really…
December 18th – The weather has become warm, drizzly and misty once more. On my return from Chasetown, I noticed the streetlights on the road below were highlighting the thin mist. I’m fascinated by the view from this bridge. This is the new road system constructed a decade ago to support the M6 Toll. The roads are wide, open and fast, and without the expected traffic level, seem impressively large at night. In the background glow the red lights of Sutton Coldfield’s transmitters. There’s something almost inhuman about the design of these roads – no footpaths, a world prohibited to pedestrians, yet they have a very human beauty. I find them fascinating.
December 18th – Crossing the Chasetown Bypass from Anglesey Wharf to Paviours Road at night, I was struct by the parabolic nature of the footbridge, and the light and shade. Some of these structures – in daylight mundane, unremarkable – come to life at night. Sometimes, you just stop, and savour the magic of it.
December 9th – I remain fascinated by deserted urban spaces at night. This small parade of shops stands just off the A5 Watling street at Brownhills, and was built to serve the housing estates that sprung up there in the postwar period. It is fair to say that its had ups and downs, and more than its fair share of transitory tenants. I find the design odd; there’s little parking nearby, and the curious fall from the road level makes it seem almost subterranean. When I passed tonight there didn’t seem to be a soul around, and I think, in an odd kind of way, it was quite haunting.
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