Up at 7.30, to catch the empty Sunday morning lanes. Most people are still abed, apart from a few farming types in landrovers. They either speed past me, not bothering to slow, or cruise past, peering suspiciously at me. It is a flat, overcast day, with rain forecast. Not much is happening; a crowd of young, just-released pheasant lolly-lagging stupidly all over the road, as likely to get run over as shot when the season gets going.
Bolshy bullocks, looking aggrieved and curious. I am expanding my ride today, to explore pastures new. It is only a few miles from home, but to a non-driver, it seems another country. My goldfish bowl is getting larger, the fitter I get.
Dopey rabbits breakfasting in the road, just realising that they are not alone. As I cycle up and down the hilly way home, 'proper' cyclists are emerging for the day. They barely acknowledge me on my rustbucket, whizzing past in lycra and sunglasses.
I managed about ten miles today and discovered one of the best views of our patch. It looks tiny here, but if you click here...you get a little piece of my morning. (Don't worry, it only goes to my Flickr page, and the full size panorma!)
High points - a buzzard flying over almost over my head as I disturbed his perch. Some of the most amazing views and discovering another astonishingly pretty and undisturbed village.
Low point - Aching legs. This cycle was much hillier than I am used to, and I confess I had to get off and walk up one or two steep inclines.