colmore

9

March 19th - Then, there was the city in a golden, very golden hour. I met a companion, had a good meal and a natter, and we rode back through a gorgeous evening, out from the city centre on the canal to Smethwick, then back through the Sandwell Valley. A gorgeous ride.

It was smoggy, and the air quality was poor; even the air conditioning at Gas Street was belching steam into the air. But it made for such a soft, golden light that kissed and flattered all it touched in this varied, architecturally eccentric city.

Man, I love this place.

5

February 26th - In Birmingham at twilight, I was without any kind of tripod, so practiced a steady hand. I used to pass through Colmore a lot, but in recent years barely at all. When I was here a lot, there was a Somerfield where the Costa is, the Waitrose hadn’t been built and the Sainsbury’s was a Marks and Spencer. It was never this handsome at dusk, either; several of the office blocks here are relatively new.

Like Walsall, Birmingham is not mine anymore; places I was familiar with, things I remember, bars, cafes and shops I haunted long gone. Yet I still feel at home here. 

Unlike Walsall, change has always been Birmingham’s modus operandi. And it’s getting better and better at it.