On the move again. Spoked wheels consume tarmac, railed wheels consume steel.
City heartbeat reverbs through my skeleton, leaves my soul cold.
The energy is ok. Sometimes. And The pace.
But I cannot. Will not. Prirotise brickwork. Or Concrete.
Over soaring mountains, flowing fields and wide, open space.
Images: (top) Tower Hill tube through a mosaic lens. (Bottom) Window through a stone wall, Southerndown, Vale of Glamorgan (B&W version posted to flickr).