Day 455: Gust Envy

Mornings like yesterday remind me why Brighton's worth it. First thing (For a Sunday) onto the bike and up Dyke Road to Devil's Dyke. It's just under five miles from where I live. That's almost the same as going into town from Muswell Hill (depending on which bit of town). Perhaps if I cycled five miles in the other direction, I would also reach open countryside. Not like this, though.

360 degree views, on the way up. Big, wide, blue skies opening up all around me. White clouds high and small plane streaks. Green fields full of grass and flowers. Up to the right, yellow rapeseed and poppies mingling to make a hazy painting. Closer up, the proud poppy red stealing focus from all the gentler colours. So much space. So much air. And out to the left, far below, the sea, just there doing its thing. 

You can't beat the pleasure of physical exercise. I can't. There's not a huge amount of steepness to get up to the dyke. A little bit at the end, but even then, it's far from extreme. Enough to feel the breath in my chest and notice the heat of the summer. Breezy up high, but gently so. Paragliders watched material puff taught for slow, promising seconds before collapsing to the ground, limp and full of gust envy. I watched them. They kept trying. 

Looking at the field I was in the right way up, I saw green spanning out, peppered with yellow and poppy-kissed in the corners. Upside down, it's another story altogether. Brown seed buds on top of grasses take precedence, sticking up over the green and making a landscape like a 1970s print. The green skies give way to a fluid floor of blue and for a moment, it's hard to be sure where the sun should come from. 

Yoga in a field at the top of a hill, far enough from the bridleway to be undisturbed. Just lovely. As I rode back towards Brighton, I saw cloud creeping over the hills. From the light and warmth of the hilltop, its cold seemed unimaginable, but halfway into my ride, it reached me. The light dulled and the air became thicker and colder, wispy little trails visible in the distance and disappeared by the time I reached them. So glad I chose to go up to the top of that hill. Next time it's a grey and wispy morning, perhaps I'll remember that. 

A pleasing call with JP and exciting new projects to think about, plus a very promising exchange with Morwhenna, who I'll get to meet tomorrow, all being well. This feels like the start of something delightful and enriching.

I'm grateful, this morning, for my immune system. The gentleman next to me is hawking and choking, coughing and sneezing. He's evidently not well enough to be going to work, but having seen the picture of his wife and young child, I made a story of commitment and determination in my head, to provide, to fight tangible sickness and get on with it. The gentleman behind me, with his tsky music, smells like he's been holed up in an airing cupboard for a week, clutching a ripe cheese for comfort. I'm not sure if he's sick or just unfortunately clothed, but I'm thanking whatever it is that made me out of steel, on that front, and looking forward to the fresh Bristolian air when I get off the train.