
September 11th – It was raining as I cycled home from Walsall, but for once, I didn’t mind. The wind was behind me, the air felt warm and the bike was moving easily. The events of the day were taking their toll and to my shame, I dismounted and pushed up the Black Cock Bridge. On the adjacent pedestrian bridge I liked the combination of rain, sodium light and metalwork.
The day was long, mentally I’d had a close call, but a weight was off my mind, and the promise of another day lightened my heart.
There’s tomorrow. There will always be a tomorrow.
