TRUSTING MY BIKE

Moreton woodland circuit Wednesday 24th August – UK

Approximately 12 km mostly off-road, compacted soil, small gravel, some sand, and quiet lanes.

It’s 7am and a squadron of doves, pigeons, and their assorted friends are scrabbling, cooing, and shaking their feathers on the roof tiles above my head. One scrambles across the slanted glass of the sloped window, and I am awake.

The sky is blue, the sun is rising and the fresh air beckons.

It’s time for a bike ride.

Soon I am peddling through the quiet, slowly awakening village, passing dogs taking their owners for their morning exercise. It’s a bit chilly and I have goosebumps on my arms, but the air and I will soon warm up.

I cross the main road which is quiet and pedal past a couple of houses before leaving the village behind. Through the trees to my left light flickers off a pond and I almost miss the small herd of deer in the field to my right. Their ears prick up and towards me as I stop to take a photo. They are still but alert, three standing and maybe two lying down. I don’t know what type they are but as they are in a field of solar panels maybe they are solar deer.

I continue to Moreton, turning off the lane and onto the puddle-speckled track that leads to the river.

The birds are singing good morning, and the river chuckles a greeting. I so love that sound.

I breath deep.

I don’t know what it is about early morning cycling, but it refreshes my soul.

I cycle across the narrow footbridge which clatters under my wheels, avoid the friendly stinging nettle stretching across the path to make contact with passing creatures, and bump down to the gravel track on the other side. It quickly changes to compact soil and the ride is smoother and quieter allowing me to hear the chatter of birds, the scurry of a mouse, or maybe it was a squirrel, the flutter of a falling leaf, and the buzz of an insect.

I admire the tall, pretty, pink flowers stretching high at the edges of the track inviting bees to partake in a nectar filled breakfast.

I cycle over another bridge with railings and a slight rise in the track. I stop to admire and take a photo of the merry stream trickling over the stones in the shallow water.

I pass from under the trees and onto heathland and the track becomes sandier. Two runners come from opposite directions, I’m not sure if they are smiling or grimacing. We nod in greeting. A dog walker says hello and we agree that it is a beautiful morning.

On the left I spy a large old tree, it’s strong roots show where the sandy soil has been washed away. There is a tyre swing hanging from one of its strong branches and evidence of much fun in the smoothed soil below it. Gnarled pieces of wood or roots twist in natural sculptures, memories of trees amongst flowering heather. Beautiful.

I can’t resist and my camera is in action again. Pink heather flowers demand to be in a photo so I oblige.

I try an arty bike wheel shot and my shadow joins in as the low sun is behind me, but it looks good.

Back on my bike I follow the path through heather and gorse as the rays of the sun slant across the tall pine trees. If I continue to the top of the track, I will be on the back lanes but instead I choose to open the wooden forestry gate which invites me into the unknown, exploring with no plan in mind and a ‘see it all’ slow pace.

The track slopes up and curves to the right and left, meandering across the heathland. Sand dominates but I find firmer ground on the edges. Down a gentle slope I spy a tall wigwam den made from old pine tree trunks and branches with a chunk of tree trunk inside as a seat.

I smile, remembering all the dens I have been involved with as a child, as a mum, as a teacher, as me.

The sky is so blue in contrast to the deep green of the pine needles on the trees and I soak up the peacefulness.

I experiment with my speed as the sandy soil becomes deeper until I reach a corner and my bike slows to a halt. I walk a few paces and find firmer ground but now it is not only sandy but has tree roots snaking across. I weave and wobble but it’s fun.

Down a slope and back onto a firmer track I pass huge old oak trees twisting out of the gorse, heather, and grass. They are strong and such wonderful habitats for so many species of living organisms, about two thousand I believe. I love oaks.

Some pretty marsh grasses sprout up from the edge of a boggy patch. They are strong and tall with seed heads bobbing on the top like round spiky hats. My bike enjoys a moment of stillness while I take more photos.

The track meanders on towards another wooden forestry gate but this one is surrounded by a huge muddy puddle. Ah well. I like mud. Sorry bike. I promise to give you a bath soon.

I push open the gate and pass through, it clanks shut behind me as I pedal away.

I spy tents and a caravan through the hedge and a wooden signpost which indicates I’m almost back at the Moreton river ford. A short cycle along the edge of a field, where a woman is exercising her beautiful brown horse near a magnificent oak tree, and I’m back at the river. Circuit complete.

Birds are singing and the sound of the water tickling the small stones entices me closer. I take a video before crossing to the sunny patch on the other side where I sit for a while watching the small fish rise. They make tiny pockets of ripples and that wonderful almost splash sound as they suck down an unlucky insect for breakfast. My stomach reminds me of its needs, and I eat a banana as I soak up the scene.

A small black dog comes to say hello, wagging its tail and sniffing my bike before racing to join its owner on an adventure over the bridge.

I see tall, wildflowers with light reflecting off the gently passing water rippling across their petals and leaves. Bees admire them too and I can’t resist taking another video.

I touch the water, it’s cool and clear. I almost slip off my shoes and socks but leave that for another time. The water is too perfect to be disturbed by me today.

I appreciate the river with my eyes and ears instead, seeing how the surface mirrors the sky and take another arty bike wheel photo and my signatory feet photo. Proof I was here, today, in this wonderful piece of nature.

Memories of hours spent paddling, splashing, exploring, building, catching fish in nets and fingers with my children and their friends surround me. Voices and laughter echo through my mind and I smile.

Before leaving I pick some light green nettle tops to make a nettle soup for lunch. They are kind to me and do not sting, maybe because my fingers are a little cold.

Back on my bike I negotiate the puddles onto the quiet lane, pass neatly thatched cottages and enjoy the only hill of the ride through a grove of oak trees.

I’d forgotten how many grew here. There are not many oak trees where I live now.

This landscape cuddles the traveller, trees hold hands across the roads creating avenues and green archways. It’s a comforting place to be. It is the landscape of my childhood.

Where I live now the landscape has arms stretched wide with awesome, far-reaching views designed to fling your soul out into the world. It is the landscape of my author life.

I love them both.

I’ve enjoyed this slow, peaceful, observant, soak-up-nature ride this morning.

The not knowing where the track will go, the no planning, just trusting my bike to take me the way I need to travel.

The joyful quiet of thoughts and memories flowing as easily as the track I followed and the streams I passed over.

The beauty, diversity, and complexity of nature.

The uplifting, early morning promise of a whole new day of life to enjoy.

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