Images

January 20th – I was home earlier, but didn’t escape the dark. It was light when I left though, which was something. On the way back I had to call in to Stonnall on an errand, and I came upon a hazard every bit as dangerous as the unexpected black ice that morning; in the blackness of the backlane, the road was flooded to some depth for the full width of the tarmac.

In my bike light, I took the best picture I could, and note that apart from the bike light, this is in total black; a mix of speed and grip-thieving water, marbles and mud just ready to strike out of the darkness.

Thankfully, I spotted it,. But be careful out there. I’h hate to think what this is like if it freezes…

January 19th – Another late return, another dearth of decent photographic inspiration. January is always hard, but without daylight it’s a nightmare.

I rolled back into Brownhills at gone 10pm, and stopped near Knaves Court for a photo looking back up the hill. It didn’t work out like I planned. But I was tired and needed food, drink and a hug. This will have to do.

Some days, you wake up, leave the house, crawl across the open landscape under fire, then return, utterly spent. This was one of those.

Christmas seems like an age away now.

January 19th – Spotted near thee canal in Darlaston on yet another wet morning, this fascinating ball of moss. I can’t actually get close to it, so can’t tell if it’s some kind of parasite on the host bush, or as I suspect, it’s the remnants of a birds nest whose lining of moss took root.

On a grey, grim morning, the brightness of the green was beautiful in the gloom.

Sometimes you have to take the beauty where you can find it…

January 18th – A long, grey and damp day ended very, very late. Having been at  work until late in the evening, I only remembered to stop for a photo as I came back into Brownhills over Anchor Bridge, so I snapped one of my favourite local night scenes.

Despite being very, very tired, the riding was good and fast this evening, and surprisingly dry too. Although this winter hasn’t been wet, the last week or so has been sodden, and I could really do with some bright dry days right now.

So weary of the grey.

January 16th – As I neared the crest of Shire Oak hill, it was murky and drizzly and the kind of night you really don’t want to be out in.

There wasn’t much traffic, either, which seemed strange – but I did note the model ‘works buses’ – not these days going to Crabtree or the BRD, but shuttling workers back and forth between the Birmingham and Black Country conurbation and Amazon at Rugeley.

These services run seemingly throughout the day and night and I’d love to know more about them.

January 16th – A terrible, awful, wet commuting day. I got wet on may way to work, wet mid day when visiting a customer, and wet on my way back. The bike is so damp, when it catches the light it has it’s own rainbow.

I came back unusually to Blake Street, as the train I was on didn’t serve Shenstone, and it was just to horrid to come from Four Oaks up that hill. I stood at the top of the steps – the ramp is a long way up the platform, and the steps are quicker – and in that moment it struck me how odd they are. Open with no roof, they descend into a passageway under the railway. Painted cream and well lit, it’s like they once had a roof, and it was removed.

I wonder…?

January 13th – To my further disappointment, when I left work, there was no snow left to speak of, and it was almost warm, but very wet, although not raining. I don’t mind admitting I really love cycling in dramatically cold conditions, and I felt a tiny bit cheated.

But as I rode back down Green Lane and over the Black Cock Bridge, they sky was clearing and a full, mist-shrouded moon hung there. It was impossible not to feel cheered by it.

January 12th – Passing throughGreat Bridge in the last of the light, the weather was grim and the traffic horrid – the promised snow had also passed through and the only trace of it was overlooking the Black Country from Turner’s Hill.

For a moment, snow on the hill – no more than an icing-sugar dusting – was beautiful.

I hope we get some more.