I love to ride a bike. Most readers will be well aware of that – I don’t ride it to make a point, or be green, or to prove anything. I ride because, well, I enjoy it. It connects me with the environment I adore and keeps me fit. It also fits well into my life.
However, like things you do all the time often do, cycling sometimes becomes workaday. It’s getting about, a means to an end. I do it, I enjoy it, but it’s mechanical, automatic, a function. I know when I’m at that stage because I climb big hills without registering them – I haul up Shire Oak or Pipe Hill, perhaps, without thinking. Fragments of journey are not remembered.
At this point, something usually happens. I’ll go for a ride or two in just the right conditions. Rain, shine, winter or summer, something will be right about the light, the atmosphere or the environment. I could be in the urban depths of the Black Country, or the tranquility of Cannock Chase. But it happens. The bike feels smooth and working well, I have power in my legs and fresh air in my lungs. I fall in love with cycling again.
It’s just happened in the last few days. I think the sunshine has woken me up, just like the tress, flowers and wildlife that are clearly enjoying the weather so much…
i make no apology for the second photo post this weekend. It’s bloody lovely out there. Staffordshire and Derbyshire are beautiful counties. If you haven’t, please go and explore them.