Images

August 31st – Returning home wearily as the light died, there was a very nice, purple-tinted sunset over Walsall, but I couldn’t find a good view of it without seriously going out of my way, which I was way too tired to do. Thankfully though, it gathered well and looked even better over the fields from Jockey Meadows out to the north over Grange Farm.

Thankfully, that’ll be the last late day until next week and I can chill out and catch up with things a bit… and hopefully get some better photos!

August 25th – Travellers of a different kind in central Walsall. Still feeling grim even for the sun and fresh air, my burning of the candle at both ends was finally catching up with me, so a breather and a brew watching this narrowboat negotiate the locks at near Smiths Flour Mill in Walsall was in order.

I love to see the narrowboats – and this was a good one, in a scene hugely transformed in the last few decades. Once, the boat would have been grubby, in even blacker, heavily polluted surroundings, perhaps carrying coal to the power station, but now we’re surrounded by green and modern urbanity, and the cargo is not coal, but travellers, holidaymakers or boat enthusiasts passing another once industrial town.

How times change.

August 25th – The morning following another late night of a different kind, and a little fragile, I’d lost contact with online events the night before. I returned in the early hours to find online outrage about travellers having encamped at Oak Park.

Passing the site that morning, the unauthorised encampment was large, and I understood the community shock and outrage.

Thankfully, the authorities acted quickly and they were gone again that evening in the continual game of arrive and evict that’s been plaguing the authority this year.

August 22nd – The Elderberry crop looks decent this year, which is always a good sign for local home-brew winemakers.

I will be out collecting buckets of these tiny back juice laden berries for a relative to perform the usual magic of transforming this bitter, black harvest into a dizzying, beautiful dark red nectar.

They also make a wonderful sight as a roll around the area. 

The oncoming autumn is lovely when you stop fighting it…

August 22nd – On a grey, grim morning in a dreadful hurry having been called in to work early, I stopped for a quick breather in Kings Hill and noted the twin sisters were looking good over in Wednesbury.

I’m so used to living workaday life in the shadow of this beautiful urban hill that I don’t pay attention to it enough. It’s gorgeous, and deserves more credit than it gets.

Green, with two stunning churches side by side, Church of England and Catholic, the view across the rooftops hasn’t changed much here in over a century.

Steady, slowly changing with the seasons, but essentially changeless. Always watching life below.

Oh how I love the Black Country.

August 21st – Back in Darlaston, the building behind the town hall – for all the world nothing but a small, brick-built, ornate garage – had had more masonry removed, and scaffolding erected.

This is a sad state for what was the town’s fire station in the earliest days of the service to be in.

The site has been cleaned out and is tidy, and the further demolition seems too neat and level to be part of a total removal, so I’m hopeful this is the start of a full restoration.

I still have no idea what happened here, I’d be interested to find out.

August 18th – As I got nearer to work, I realised I’d just missed a very localised downpour, I love how the rain an light made Victoria Park look as things lightened up. Dripping gently, the green was beautiful and you’d never think you were in such an urban, industrial place so close to a town centre.

One of the many reasons to love Darlaston…

August 6th  Dusk was falling on my return from Chasewater and at Home Farm, the harvest I had foreseen the day before was underway before expected rains appeared, and the farmer was working into the evening. Clouds of dust rose from the combine, and for all the world looked like it was on fire.

I feel really sad this year at Summer’s passing; I have enjoyed the warm days so much, with the sun and flowers. I guess again, I will endure winter and the cold and dark and come to enjoy it after initial resistance as I always do. I just wish the warmth had a fairer share of the year…

August 6th – A better day spent mainly at home getting domestic things done, and resting, which is what I needed more than anything. I left for a ride late on a freshly tuned, clean, unladen bike and had forgotten just how lively and fun my bike is to throw around in such a state. I rocketed around the common and Chasewater and felt better, and liberated. I only had to go a few weeks. And I could get more stuff done. This isn’t all bad.

Talking of getting stuff done, I noted that the Fullelove Memorial Shelter at the bottom of The Parade is being well renovated. Built in memoriam to the great Brownhillian choral singer George Fullelove, I believe the shelter was built after his passing for the elderly to sit and watch the world go by. Over the years I’ve seen much time there, like many a Brownhills lad: sheltering, dossing, socialising or having an illicit fag. 

Like most people, until I was older I had no idea of the purpose of this hexagonal, elegant structure as no plaque records it’s purpose, but it is a fitting tribute, and also to Brownhills Local Committee and Doug Birch who have pushed for the renovation.

Thanks. This is a real piece of Brownhills history, your efforts are appreciated.