Cycling west along the coast road to the next village this morning took about half the time of any previous trip. The east wind pushed me along as I pedalled furiously to take full advantage.
It was thrilling to travel so fast without wind rushing in my ears, without battling to make progress. It reminded me of running with the wind on a yacht; no wind noise, just the bows cutting through the water. Today all I hear is the spinning of the chain, the tyres on the road and the sound of birds singing.
I return by climbing the rise to the heath at the top of the hill. This route back shields me from the easterly blow because the road is below the brow, is hedged and then runs through oak woodland until the summit of Bard Hill. From there home no pedalling required, just the brakes.
The bluebells are yet to feature under those oaks, but the little nubs of blue are forming in the clumps of shiny, leaves that sprout through the leaf litter. They are readying themselves to break out any day now. They are not alone in that.
Uninterrupted sunshine is forecast to be with us for the next few days. The temperature will be about average for this time of year, but the sunshine offers false hope of greater warmth. I am accepting of weather – it happens; its expectations that need managing.
Wireless connectivity problems shorten our conversation in the morning; weariness and appetite shorten it in the evening. All understandable and reasonable, as long as reserves of reason and understanding remain.
I am disappointed to miss a mid-afternoon call from my son. I was sitting outside having a cup of tea in the cosmetic sunlight.
Elsewhere, mother and baby, (and father) are doing fine.
.
Christopher Perry
21st April, 2020
Journey of Words 