Images

March 23rd – whilst pottering through Wednesfield on my way back from Telford, I noticed this pedestrian bridge near the centre of town. I think it’s a close relation to the one in Brownhills, erected a couple of years ago at the bottom of Pier Street. Although a different shape, and clearly adapted for specific circumstances, it’s clearly by the same designer with similar stylistic quirks. Wonder if there are any more of them? I like these bridges, although the inward-leaning rail is disconcerting, they have beautifully soft ramps for wheeled access, and look rather elegant.

March 22nd – Any entomologists in the house? On a fence-post near Stonnall. Three different genus of the same species (if that’s the right way to put it). I know they’re all ladybirds, but which is which? Is any one of them the nasty, invasive ones I’ve been hearing about? Help gratefully recieved.

March 21st – I hadn’t been up Brickiln Street in Brownhills for a while. I was quite surprised to see the old library is still standing – it’s been empty ever since its replacement in the Parkview Centre, Brownhills opened a few years ago. I’m sure I read a local councillor was campaigning to have it removed; certainly, the council have been trying to flog the land for a while. The building is boarded up, and the grounds locked.

It fills me with sadness, really, as I spent years here, as a kid. That small, dull building held everything I needed for a while – peace and quiet, headspace, and a world of possibility, learning and dreaming.

In there now is probably the ghost of an awkward young lad, chin propped on his hands, reading the local planning list, some map or the latest Bernard Ashley. That building – and what it held – had a huge influence on me. 

March 19th – Returning that evening after visiting both Telford and Redditch in the same day, I emerged from a decidedly windswept Blake Street station and headed homewards. Traces of the previous day’s remarkable sunset were still evident over Little Aston church, but the oddly keen wind made the going difficult. Spring is certainly here, but it can still be decidedly wintry at times.

March 18th – The work at the southern end of Chasewater dam is very near completion. Again, the security had been breached so I swung back to Brownhills along the canal. It’s nice to see that the minor overspill culverts have had grilles fitted over them, like this one at the rebuilt Nine-Foot pool. They were enticingly child sized and I was concerned that some inquisitive urchin might get stuck… I’m looking forward to the dam opening again, even is there’s still no water.

March 16th – As I noted last week, something stirs in the damper parts of the hedgerow.  With every shower, more and more amphibians are on the move. In the dark, on a dry night, this common toad was crossing Netherstowe Lane. These misunderstood creatures are seeking water to mate for spring. Their ribbons of spawn are distinct from the clumps left by frogs. Utterly devoid of road sense, they are killed in their thousands at this time of year as sadly, they blend into the tarmac rather too well to see. Being a soft old sod, I stop, and help Mr. Toad to the other side of the road by nudging him gently on the backside with my foot. Best that way, they’ll occasionally let out a startling scream, but at least they won’t wee all over you, a defensive gesture that often shocks the unwary…

March 15th – No tyres are completely puncture proof (well, that anyone would want to ride) and today, I flatted. Just on Meerash Hill, near the abandoned farm at Hammerwich, as it happened. My tyres of choice are Schwalbe Marathon Plus and they’re damned fine rubber, with all kinds of protection inside. However, hawthorn spines are the work of the devil (or rather a master of evolution) and very, very tough. This one pushed clean through a 4mm band of rubber, kevlar and anti-thorn braid. Such is life.
Time for a pro-tip. I always carry disposable gloves in the toolkit. Weigh nothing, can be used several times, and stop the bars getting grubby from the oily fingers post-repair. They’re also excellent for picking up sharps inside the tyre; they snag on anything foreign, without hurting your fingers.  A quick patch up and I was on my way in no time.

March 14th – A run up the Trent valley to Walton-on-Trent, then back via Barton and Alrewas. A gorgeous afternoon, chilly, but with a wonderful, golden mist. Here at Whitemore Haye, I noticed the swans had descended, and were loafing in the fields. I’ve mentioned it before, but these birds are the bane of farmers lives – beautiful as they are, they’ll decimate fields of young crops, and are breeding at an incredible rate. I pity the poor person who eventually moots the idea of a cull, but I can’t see the current population of birds being sustainable with clutches of 6 or more being the norm.