as I passed, heard the birdsong, caught some of nature’s lightshow as the dappled light fell onto the Forest floor, surprised wildlife and early morning dog walkers as I sped by having more fun that should be allowed on the way to work. On all those occasions parting the morning air, barrelling towards work through the Forest the only thought I’d given to the distant rumble of traffic snarling towards the city was whether all those “cagers” knew what they were missing.

Yet I’d now missed the morning slot for the season so my immediate attention had to be on occupying two square yards of tarmac and being ever mindful of that very same snarling, carnivorous traffic. Don’t get me wrong there is so much about commuting that I love, not least carving through city streets and holding my own against motorized predators. But the fight for space on the faster suburban roads can and does wear me down. Sometimes this geezer feels a little grey around the edges.

Anyhoo that’s all part of the rich tapestry of commuting (to paraphrase my friend Gary) and into that tapestry I have once again started to weave some green, earthy and soulful threads. Currently the homeward leg is a double whammy: 1) I am riding away from work and 2) I get to bookend my commute with a few miles of choice trails. Letting the bike flow down those apparently clandestine singletrack chutes, popping off roots, smiling a wry smile as I look down at the gridlock below the bridge across the North Circular, throwing the bike around corners with a little joyful abandon and all with tires pumped up to maximum PSI just adds to the fun and helps me to breathe a little deeper. And in the morning when I stow the bike in the locker room and catch a glimpse of a little mud and crap on the tubes of my beloved cycle-conspirator I see beyond another day at work.

I know it won’t be long till Summer disappears through that annual revolving door without so much as a glance over her shoulder, rain and darkness hard at her heels. Once again I will hope her last temperate kiss is not goodbye forever but in retrospect I’m sure it will feel like a semi-permanent farewell…
Meanwhile here’s to Indian Summers and love letters written in horseshit.