September 20th – That evening, coming up from Stonnall as dusk fell I was, as I usually am, held at the lights.
There are few homecomings more significant to me that this small, triumphant wait – having climbed a large hill, all that’s left between me, a mug of tea, home and family – and often, the food in the pannier – is a long, pleasurable freewheel down the hill, over Anchor Bridge and into Brownhills.
Just got to wait for the lights, and I’m nearly there…
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