Mist cloaked embankments
I feel the bike is the best form of transport through a city. That will come as no surprise at all. I spend much of my time waxing lyrical about the efficacy of the bike, the beauty of its form and the delight in its use. But then a morning comes along that is so staggering in its majesty that I need not add further explanation. I know that statement sounds over the top. I’m aware that it suggests gross exaggeration. But when I left the traffic jam on Station Road behind, with its angry motors exhaling fumes at passing school children and the seagull klaxon of vexed horns, I hopped my wheel over the kerb and rolled through a gate to a different world entirely – the mist cloaked embankments of the River Taff.
I passed another commuter at Blackweir, sat up, hands in pockets, balancing slowly on two wheels, gazing at the perfect orange orb of the sun and lost deep in thought.
Lovely isn’t it? I remarked.
‘I don’t think I’m going to go to work’ he responded.
I’m pretty sure he didn’t mean it. But who knows? And who could blame him? The penetration of the sun through the mist lent the park a dreamlike quality. Temporarily at least, the bustle of the city was suspended.
The Taff trail links Brecon with Cardiff and runs North to South through the centre of the city.
Top image: Blackweir football pitches 8.45 this morning.
Bottom image: Blackweir bridge, 2 minutes earlier.