Over the months the landscape of the rural end of my commute has gradually cycled through a rustic colour wheel, from brown to gold via shades of green. In August this slow paced transition flips into a couple of weeks of urgent transformation; the harvest is coming in. Soon the fields will be ploughed back to brown earth but for now the landscape is dominanted by the towering bulks of temporary haystacks. Perhaps it’s down to find memories of a childhood summer in Thorney, but I love a good haystack.
As for my bike, the bumpkin will be left in the station racks, chewing straw between its jockey wheels, while the town bikes, with their sloppy and squeaky chains look on with envy.