BrownhillsBob's #365daysofbiking

July 24th - Further on, at Sandhills, a fine crop of maize. Related to sweetcorn, it’s grown mainly for animal feed and seems a bit of a declining crop. That’s sad, really, as it’s fascinating. Already a couple of feet high, this may well grow to 4 feet or more tall, and is lush and green the whole time.

When harvested, a special machine is used that chobbles up the whole crop - seeds, stalks, leaves and cobs - into small pieces, so nothing is really wasted. 

This is one of the latest summer crops, one of the last harvested, and will provide this vivid green right into September.

July 8th - It’s been a while since I got a good sunset in the bag. I was tired. I had caffeine shakes. I was a stressed, weary mess. But Cycling home in this really sorted me out.

Divine.

July 7th - Working late, I returned at sundown and winched my way up Shire Oak Hill from Sandhills. I noticed that lots of trees along here are laden with developing fruits - beach nuts, acorns, pine cones and these, unusually abundant sycamore seeds, or ‘helicopters’ as we used to call them as kids.

They seem to be already ripening - but this is only just the beginning of July. 

Am I imagining it, or are we heading for an early autumn?

June 29th - Also showing well was the landscape. From the view down to Sandhills and Springhill over Home Farm, to the threatening skies over Hammerwich, the countryside looked gorgeous. Everywhere I surveyed was turning colour with ripening crops.

This people, is Brownhills. It has some remarkably beautiful views.

May 24th - There’s probably some fancy photographic name for it, but some days seem naturally high-contrast. Something about the light. I spun around very wet towpaths out of Brownhills to Chasewater, and noted that part of Sandhills was dark, and another part was remaining in light. It really was quite beautiful.

Newtown’s bunny population were out enjoying the lush wet vegetation, and could be barely bothered to run away as I approached, and the view to Hammerwich was as wonderful as ever now it’s wearing it’s summer jacket. At Chasewater, the view from the dam was remarkable, with a rather threatening sky. 

As I headed home, the heavens opened again.

But it’s summer, and warm rain is better than cold…

May 20th - Spotted on the way home this evening - red campion. Seeing lots of this this year; although named red, most of what I see is shades of hot pink. A lovely, delicate flower, this is growing in the hedgerow at Sandhills on Shire Oak Hill. 

The wildflowers really are excellent this year.

April 16th - It’s all about flowers at the moment. I was in Telford for the first time for a couple of weeks, and spring has come on incredibly fast in the intervening period. As ever, the bed of tulips and other flowers at Telford railway station is incredible - but the daffodils - now going over a bit - were gorgeous at Hortonwood. It was sunny, and warm, and the wind seems to be dying a bit at long last. As I ground my way up Shire Oak Hill late afternoon, I noticed the first Spanish bluebells in the hedgerow by Lanes Farm. 

This was worth the wait.

April 6th - Still not feeling too great, and with similarly dismal weather, I took a spin out around Brownhills late afternoon. I noted that despite the grey and  blustery weather it was quite warm, and the oilseed rape was coming on in leaps and bounds. At Sandhills looking towards Springhill, the crop was nearly in flower, and the fields towards Hammerwich weren’t too far behind.

They’re going to be gorgeous this year when the sun shines.

This must be the signal that winter was over. I told you that buying new snow tyres would stall a bad winter - and so they did.

March 10th - I love it when, for a short time every spring and autumn, my homeward commute coincides with the golden hour. Even more so if it does so during a period of good weather. This evening, I returned from Shenstone specifically to catch the station and two towers in the beautiful light, and hopefully see the sunset over Ogley Hay and St. Jame’s Church. 

Neither disappointed. I’m loving this spring.

January 11th - It was a terrible ride out, if I’m honest. Despite the sunny day, like Boxing Day, the towpaths and trails were nothing but slop, and I was covered in mud. I had several silly mechanical issues with the bike,  including a puncture (no, I haven’t put the tape in yet!). I ended up on a short, abortive ride around Burntwood, Hammerwich and Springhill.

Despite all of that, the sunset was gorgeous.

This one goes out to Trevor in Australia, who I’m told isn’t too well right now. Get well soon, old chap.

January 8th - I wasn’t expecting to be caught by the rain this afternoon. For some reason I though the rains weren’t coming in until later in the evening, and I was caught without full waterproofs. To heap on the misery, I had to nip down to Stonnall on an errand on the way home. It was wet, but not cold. I got soaked. 

Surely, this rain must end soon? I’m developing webbed feet…

December 19th - I headed out mid afternoon on the annual pre-Christmas pilgrimage to Packington Moor farm shop near Whittington. On the way, I spun down Barracks Lane, and the bright colour of some fungus on a tree stump snagged my eye. I stopped to take a look.

A big old tree - I think an Ash - has been cut down here in recent weeks, leaving a hollowed out bole to rot away. The cavity in the stump itself contains an odd, purple mildew, and although clearly only weeks since being cut, the fungus is working to recycle the wood, and growing in slimy, glossy bright orange clumps. I’ve no idea what they are, but they’re beautiful.

Nature reclaims most things, and is wonderful and mysterious in her processes.

As an aside, it’s clear that this tree was suffering a dreadful disease from the hollow core. To the untrained eye, there appear to have been no signs on the outside of the malady within. How do arborists know this stuff?

December 17th - I went out in darkness, and found myself in a refreshingly cold night, with a huge, beautiful, partially cloud obscured moon. I rode up the canal intending to visit Chasewater, but spent ages instead experimenting more with long exposure photography.

I’m not a photographer, I never learned any technical stuff. What I know I learned by trial and error, and finding this camera offered me a couple of really long exposures, I’ve been trying them out. 

The landscape over Home Farm at Sandhills, Ogley Junction and Warrenhouse yielded some fairly interesting results, but I think I need more practice…

November 3rd - Today, the season’s wheel clicked round another notch. The wind that so harangued me the day before had died right down, but the temperature had dropped, too. Today, I realised once and for all that winter, if not quite on her throne, was certainly waiting in the wings. 

I left mid afternoon, with grand ideas of tearing up the Chase, but I was dressed too lightly and I felt cold and despite the sun, quite down in the dumps, if I’m honest. No reason to be, other than the passage of warmth and the advancing of the seasons; this time of year I always wonder if I have the strength inside to face another winter of dark nights, cold commutes and lifeless countryside.

I headed up over Chasewater and Cuckoo Bank, down Rainbow Hill and over Slitting Mill. A quick coffee at sunset, and back over Penkridge Bank. I saw deer, but it was too dark to get a good picture. Returning cold and in darkness, I felt a world away from warm, sunny afternoons. I was heavy hearted and my very bones ached.

I bloody hate this time of year.

October 25th - Although it was lightly raining, it was warm, and with the wind behind me I took the back way back to Brownhills, down the Lichfield Road and up over Springhill at Barracks Lane. 

I had a play with long exposure shots at Sandhills, and was quite pleased with the result, but puzzled too, when I looked at the images on the computer. In both, a wavy, oscillating thin trace of light is present above the main vehicle trails, which are very straight. I thought about these thin, curling traces for almost an hour, then I worked them out. 

They’re the light trail created by the reflection of street lights off the car windscreen, hence the curve and double back as the car enters the dominance of another lighting column. It’s quite mathematical, and I think it could be modelled with fairly basic locus mathematics.

I could be wrong, though…