Eschew the car though. It doesn’t provide experiences enjoyed by the fleet of foot or spoked wheel.
My daughter saw the rain, the king size drops exploding on the window sill. ‘Not the car Dad‘.
We walked and talked, talked and walked. Welly drum-beat tsunamis with every step.
The bike shed was deserted save for us. A temporary changing room, a change of footwear.
I returned among minimal human traffic.
At Velindre I stopped and chatted to the falconer. A Harris hawk perched regally. Seagull cries indicate a work in progress.
I’ve never chatted with a falconer while in my car. Or ever, come to think of it. Nor am I likely to (in my car at least).
Paul ran past, smiled and waved. I see him infrequently. Little breaks a runner’s stride in the rain.
Later I have meetings in different parts of the city. It will involve waterproofs and a bike and chance encounters, I bet.
Cycle through life for a full life cycle.
That’s what I say.