Walking and seeing things at a different speed. Perspectives; the layer of rubble at the base of the cross-sectioned shivering road. Mountain bike tracks in mud and lines that, to a walker, look remarkably like ruts. The tiny details you don't see from the saddle because you're moving too fast, too focussed. Strangely therapeutic. Except that I feel like an undercover mountain biker. Eyes scope bike lines. Fingers twitching for imaginary brakes. Bike envy at muddy tyre tracks. Tomorrow...
And bonus dreadflocks...
Very tired. You should get a bell for that.
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