If you go down to the woods today


I can feel those woods calling. The lure of the pine trees and the oak, the ferns and the bracken.

I can feel the siren call of the moorland top, after shrinking treeline, wind whistling, exposed crag and brash trig point.

I can feel the need for descending speed, skipping front, rear wheel experiencing flight.

I can feel the need to clear the head and fill the soul, a yearning chasm filled.

I can feel the need.

Last week whilst solo mountain biking I disturbed a buzzard, who promptly took flight, gliding no more than 15 feet from my shoulder, for over 50 yards. It’s been a busy week and I need a bit more of those encounters, those moments.  The woods are calling again.

Bear on a bike by linocutboy. More work of his here and cycle art sales here

2 replies »

    • No animal encounters yesterday. Instead:

      Two friends and their children walking on the mountain.
      A gruff dog walker on a country lane, bemoaning the absence of a bell (!).
      A young family on a path asking for directions.
      A Bohemian and seemingly out of place, couple emerging from the moor.
      Two fell running friends breaking the treeline.

      It’s the only way to spend Sunday mornings.

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