When the weather is good, I love watching the city come alive. People sauntering to work before 8, avoiding the crowds that come later. The fresh smell of java from the coffee shop. Metro reading striders. Occasional bike couriers. In France, there’s great pleasure in observing the baguette scoring locals, armed with long sticks of fresh bread and sweet pastry supplies. There are no direct comaprisons at home, but the feeling is there, nonetheless. I’ve been taken by two things during this glorious Autumnal week. The orange orb of the sun, slung low in the East and the site of the locked churchyard gardens. The latter waits for bums on seats, mums consuming meal deals from Boots and kids milling about. The fomer seemed to be delivered straight from the set of Bladeunner.
It’s funny what you see on a bike commute n’est ce pa?