Images

February 6th – It’s been chilly now for a couple of weeks, and I now have my winter cycling skin on, and barely feel the cold. It gets you like that in the end; you become tempered, inured, used to the climate; so much so that you feel it when it warms up that much more acutely. I love being in this position. It means when spring comes, it’s even more joyous.

At Green Lane on another cold, icy commute, I was wrapped up and felt warm, and the barren beauty of the season really struck me.

I’d like spring to hurry up, of course: but I can live with this, for now.

February 4th – I had to nip into Wednesbury from Darlaston mid-morning, so hopped over Kings Hill. Something about the light, the cold, the slightly softening haze caught my eye. It’s brittle cold at the moment, but I’m at the stage where I’m barely noticing it. I love days like this, wrapped up well they’re a joy to ride in.

February 2nd – Not noticing I had the camera on a poor setting, I took several photos today that came out really, really badly. By the time I realised, I was on the way home, and my hands were cold, and I was tired. But Bullings Heath – the area around the Black Cock Pub and bridge, at the north end of Hall Lane, Walsall Wood, looked great in the dusk.

It’s worth pointing out that tonight, it still wasn’t properly dark at gone 5:30. I’ll have me some more of that if I can – but it was a horrid cold evening, the kind that makes your forehead hurt and finds every sensitive part of your teeth.

I wish it would either get really cold and snow, or warm up a bit. This current cold and damp is the worst of both worlds.

January 30th – A long day. Out early, the commute was odd. I wrapped up for very cold, a thin layer of snow still on the ground here. But as I got to Rushall, the air felt warmer and there was less and less snow. In Walsall, hardly any sign at all. I was sweating. I guess I rode over a weather front. It’s not every day you do that.

On the way back that evening, it was chilly in Walsall and warmer as I got closer to home. The snow had melted during the day, and the sky was clear. With a little moonlight and long exposure, Clayhanger Bridge looked fine in the night.

Strange weather, lately.

January 28th – And this is the thing with Darlaston – it takes your breath away. It was around 5:20pm, not yet properly dark, and the view through Victoria Park over the mystic bridge was just superb.

I’m a Brownhills lad, through and through – but I do love this place too. It has heart, and soul, and surprising corners when you get to know it. Just like Brownhills.

These are my places, and here my heart will always lie.

Thankfully, the camera got its act together for this one…

January 28th – Bit of a rough photograph, for some reason, and I will return to this in future, as until recently, I didn’t realise how beautifully lit Darlaston War Memorial was at night. It really is gorgeous.

I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again: I know of few better places of remembrance than this one. Sombre, respectful, quiet and restrained, it is a place of dignity, and reflection and is a credit to Darlaston.

I must find out what happens to the camera when it does this…

January 27th – Heading back to Brownhills, dusk now getting later and later. Tis pleases me, and the opening out is now well underway. Another cold month or two, and then, hopefully, spring. Right now, it’s still a battle, but it’s one I’m winning; this winter hasn’t seemed as dark as others in recent years and I’ve felt a lot better about it.

I am looking forward to leaves, colour and warmth again, though.

All in good time.

January 26th – In the centre of Darlaston, at the other end of the day, one of the last of a breed. Outside Darlaston’s wonderfully imperious Post Office, a classic K6 telephone box, still with the light and a phone.

I’ve never noticed this one before, and the light within them always gives me a warm feeling inside. Years ago, riding through the countryside at night, the sight of that red frame and white light would be reassuring; contact, signs of life and connection in the darkness. I even waited in them for showers and storms to pass.

These days, this classic design is rare, and even rarer with a functioning phone and light.

I’ve just realised this is the second OMD reference on this journal in little over a week…

January 26th – Passing through Kings Hill in Darlaston whilst nipping into Wednesbury, I noted that the former Servis factory site – nothing but a pile of rubble for a few years now – was subject of a planning application for 250 homes. 

Which is good, really, because we need them. But…

Servis was a big employer in Darlaston for many years, and was originally part of Wilkins & Mitchell, who made power presses and other machines. Servis stuff wasn’t great quality, and they didn’t modernise, despite pioneering electronically controlled washing machines. In the 1990s the company ran into trouble, and was bought by Italian white-goods giant Merloni, themselves crashing in 2008. Since then, the brand has re-emerged under a Turkish badge-engineering parent company.

The factory was razed, and lay pulverised as a testament to the economic rough seas Darlaston was enduring; as the factory was carried to dust, Councillors and regeneration wonks pronounced this site would very soon see a retail and leisure renaissance. 

There was soon to be an election, and one must suspect this was the usual electorate-buttering bullshit; the rebirth never came, and like the Exidor factory up the road, it’ll now become homes. 

Kings Hill – once the beating industrial heart between Darlaston and Wednesbury – is slowly becoming reclaimed by housing.

January 22nd – I passed through New Street mid-afternoon. The whole place was grey. It’s still chaos, and has been clearly designed with anything but the passengers in mind.

I stood waiting for a late train. Ever signal I could see was red. Sometimes, commuting feels like this. 

To quote Dexy’s, tell me when my red light turns green.