Grey with a hint of purple.

Everything's gone grey with a hint of purple. Which is nice. I'd forgotten how much I enjoy riding into night. Watching the lying sun sinking behind Peak hills. A cat that looks like a badger in the half light, but is still a cat. A dim pheasant playing verge roulette. A field full of long-lashed alpacca. Or were they vicuña? Back lanes littered with a criss-cross matrix of twigs. An owl spread out wide and swooping ahead in the gloom.  A hint of somewhere in the middle chill in the air. And an understated shadow of winter just over the horizon.

Angry Bike

Raindrops against my window. A singlespeed. Ride over to the Fox with two tons of U-lock in my pack which I lock to a handy picnic table before hiding under a handy roofed thing with non-operative wood-burner. Meet people. Ride for two hours badly through gritty slurry and semi-liquid cow pats. Final descent on path composed entirely of the latter. Yuk. Get back to pub. Drink beer. Eat curry. Talk too much about rubbish. Unlock bike. Ride home over Lantern Pike with resurgent curry. Surprised that legs feel good. Brake pads evaporate. Home. Order sintered pads on line. Next morning wake to this... Just like old times :-)