I was in London yesterday. Leaving the house at 7.40, frost crunched beneath my boots. Icy breezes whispered cold nothings in my ear. I took the gentle train to Cardiff central and then the inter city to London Paddington. Somewhere in between – Wiltshire, I think – the sun defrosted. The air temperature tempted mercury to ascend. I left the metal tubes at Kensington (Olympia bound) and shielded my eyes from the glare, felt golden beams bask my face, my neck, my hands. My heavy North Face mountain jacket was removed, outdoors, for the first time in months. Spring emerged. A gentle promise of what’s to come and a welcome reminder of warm rides in distant history. Majorca in May. That perfect day in the Beacons. A gentle tide lapping Ogmore beach.
With thanks to ‘chronicles of she’ for the cover image. Picture above taken yesterday on Praed Street, London (Canon S95)