Rain, pitter, patters.

 

umbrella-3

Rain pitter, pattering, splattering, cascading over my shoulders. I have no umbrella, no canopy to speak of. Just me, my bike and the pitter patter.

I pass under the motorway bridge. A rainwater wave crashes over. A giant bucket emptied, a video game, Sonic the hedgehog avoids the wash.

Standing water puddles form lakes. Smooth surface, deep contents. Tyres part them so perfectly, feet doused so easily. This is why there’s a market for overshoes. Maybe one day I’ll invest.

A couple huddle. Hoods gamefully employed, linked arm in arm. A dog snuffles, head down. Sunday afternoon is always better outdoors, no matter what.

Last effort up. I dismount, carry and run. Rain makes no difference to this. None.

Rain pitter, pattering, splattering, cascading over my shoulders. I have no umbrella, no canopy to speak of. Just me, my bike and the pitter patter.

CX session last Sunday. Relentless rain an end of season gift. vintage cycle art by Loui Jover

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