January 20th – Then, as if by magic, the light appeared to save my soul.
Or at least, that’s how it felt.
I set out early on a frosty morning I wasn’t prepared for, and had a few interesting moments on black ice. But there was one notable feature as I rode to Darlaston at the same time as every other day this week – The sky, gently lightening to the east. It filled my heart with hope – and the roofs of Darlaston looked gorgeous against a bright dawn. This was much more like it.
Mid morning, I popped to Telford on a morning beautifully draped in a thin, opalescent mist. From the train it hung low over the countryside and was beautiful, and even the M54 wore it well.
Just as I thought there was no end, a sign of a new beginning. I saw the light, and it was good.
May 6th – A lovely ride on on a sunny, bright spring day. Wildlife and rural charm all around. To be in England, in springtime.
I find it all the more perplexing, then, why someone would take their dog for a walk, bag up their dog’s poo, and just toss the bag on the canal towpath, without disposing of it properly. Now we not only have a health risk, we have it packaged in such a way that it’ll not rot down. Archeologists of the future are going to be utterly perplexed as to why they keep digging up random bags containing canine excrement.
Have the arseholes that do this got shit for brains? In this camp I also place those idiots who festoon hedges and trees with these revolting parcels.