Images

October 29th – The day had been better, weather-wise; it was milder, and the rain had mostly stopped. The day had that never-quite-light feel about it, though, and the sunset at 4:45pm was ominous. Looking towards the city from Tyseley Station, central Birimingham seemed close enough to walk, but the railway signals strung out in an undulating line following the course of the track told a different story. I love that view, for all all it’s faults. Brum, you’re a rough dame but I wouldn’t be without you.

October 28th – Looping back up the canal, I headed for Chasewater. On my way, I passed The Anchor. It was very autumnal – almost wintry in the twilight. I’d better get used to this. I think we’re in for a wet and windy season. Time, I think, to strip the bike down and clean and grease everything ready for winter.

October 26th – Most of this week I’d be lucky, but on Friday it finally caught up with me. The rash of delays and cancellations to local train services ‘operated’ by London Midland – currently running at 411 lost services in three weeks – had caused me no end of grief the week before, but so far, I’d missed them. That was until I had to come back from Birmingham New Street to Walsall in a hurry at peak time. Great. Half an hour longer I had to wait, and even then the train barely limped in. Over the past few weeks I’l lost hours of time this way. It would be nice to think the train company actually gave a toss, but to be quite honest, I don’t think they do. A terrible situation for all who rely on local trains.

October 25th – A much better day. The weather has cleared as we’re apparently moving to a cold snap. The air was clear and sharp, and only the odd patch of drizzle persisted as I left work. I had stuff to do in Birmingham and wanted to visit the Night Market in Walsall later in the evening, and at teatime found myself at Snow Hill Station heading for my favourite coffee shop for food and a cuppa.

Snow Hill was rebuilt in the 1980’s, and today I spotted a feature I’ve never noticed before, that has me completely baffled. I’ve used this station hundreds of times, yet never noticed this. Much of the concourse are is tiled in old-style plain, but highly glazed ceramic tiles. On the wall opposite the steps from platforms 1 and 2 is an inset detail of a cat. I could find no other instance of the is decoration, and have no idea why it’s there, about 18 inches off the floor. Is it a reference to a station cat of times past, or some other piece of whimsy? Any ideas?

October 24th – The grim weather continues. Every commute is an effort this week – really poor visibility coupled with slippery, greasy roads and a fine, penetrative drizzle that soaks everything. I just want a clear, bright, cold day for a change. It’s also really, really difficult to take photos. The exposure on the camera slows down to sub-handheld speeds, and pictures are washed out and grey, just like the landscape. 

Passing the junction of Forge Lane and Walsall Road, this is the old village of Little Aston, before the money moved in. These cottages, behind the venerable scots pine, are very old indeed. Just up forge lane, the original smithy still stands, up until a couple of years ago, still a blacksmith’s sop. Even on a grey day, it’s an attractive place hinting at a more rural past.

23rd October – As I headed homeward, conditions – and the light – didn’t improve, but at least the wind was almost behind me. The amount of motorists I saw without lights was astounding, and by the time I was negotiating Shire Oak Hill, it was both raining steadily, and very nearly dark. This weather is difficult to ride in – not just for practical visibility and comfort reasons, but the rain makes people drive oddly, and it puts me on my guard. One would imagine that bad weather would make people drive more carefully, but the opposite seams to be the case. Most bizarre.

October 23rd – The bleak weather continues. Thoroughly depressing commutes were lightened only by getting a decent train service for the first time in weeks. Despite the mass cancellations, I for once fell lucky and managed to get on 2 trains that were on time and 2 that were only a few minutes late. This may seem unremarkable, but the service has been so bad of late it’s been adding whole hours to my commuting time. As my train home rolled into Shenstone, I felt quite pleased, but noticed the announcement as I alighted that the following train was 15 minutes late. That one was set to be seriously overcrowded. The local rail system really is useless at the moment.

Shenstone Station, however, is still beautiful, even in the half-light of a miserable day.

October 22nd – The day remained grim and unphotogenic. My return was marred by a heavy headwind, and very, very fine drizzle – the kind that soaks your clothes and trickles down your neck without ever having the decency to actually rain properly. The light, and consequently the photography, were awful. At Jockey Meadows, near Walsall Wood, the fields were misty and dank. The last of the beans remained in the field by the road, as the ground was too waterlogged to harvest them. This doesn’t look like OCtober, it looks like December. Let’s hope the weather picks up soon.

October 22nd – The trains were lousy again, so I opted for a day in Darlaston instead, so I didn’t have to catch any. The commute was evil – raining, wet with really, really bad visibility. I was shocked to see so many drivers without lights – which makes spotting them over your shoulder in these conditions difficult. At Scarborough Road, in Pleck, the trees of this interwar period avenue are beautifully golden, and they cheered me. But the day remained grim.. I think it’s in for the week…

October 21st – I see lots of sweet chestnut trees about – particularly around Shugborough and Longdon, yet little decent fruit, which has always puzzled me. This year in no exception. Inside these very sharp, defensive husks, the chestnuts are thin and small. I don’t know if they’re just an ornamental strain, or whether the crops need more attention than they get in the wild. Still, the windfalls are always impressively spiky.