I will miss this peace, when the school run starts again. The roads blissfully empty; parked and double-parked cars almost absent; nobody U-turning near manned zebra crossings, ignorant of the rest of the world, to hurry back home, or to work.
Today was a dreamy glide-in through a cool morning start, fresh breezes and a faint threat of rain. But I went on the main B road, in order to to spend those few extra minutes at the village shop before work.
This meant I had a fair bit of the unavoidable traffic: plumbers driving as only Gas Safe technicians can; personalized number plates; Keep Hunting bumper stickers passing too close. It was a bit much, even though it was less than usual. So on the way back I decided to take a more scenic path – only perhaps five minutes longer – and enjoy myself a little more.
The usual online rain radars meant I could time my departure to within a quarter of an hour of good weather again. I left the office five minutes late, to see a few growling black clouds racing into the north east like yapping terriers wanting to save face as they made their escape. In the wake of these grim bullies was a thick blue sky, peppered sparsely with white and grey nothings. The sun grinned and beamed a greeting, a welcome, across the rolling hills ahead of me.
I hummed for some twenty minutes up hill and down dale, chain completely silent, almost my only company a few oncoming cyclists. Sun, hum, cool warmth, speed, air, green scents. This is what Witney could be like all the time, I thought, if we only cared enough, and if we only dared a little.