Feel a ride

The field (1 of 1)

I can feel a ride coming on.

Not a pop to the shops. Not a training session. Not a chore mixed with a pleasure (a cheasure if you will).

A ride.

I need to feel the wind blow through my mind, pass through my ears, whistle through that void.

I need the chemical rush of adrenaline and exertion, the rise and fall of limbs, the exhaling of breath.

I need the quiet whisper of contentment as hills roll like a billowed sheet on a washing line, tumbling to the sea.

They can take me with ’em.

A buzzard last week, shadowed my movements, flew ahead like a scout and settled in a tree.

I barely noticed. I need it back. That here and the now.

I can feel a ride coming on.

I. can. Feel. A. Ride.

 

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