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2018 || 5

Vapour trails drawn in orange pastel sticks across the sky, smudged by the wind. Over my shoulder a Monet smear of bruised mauves and indigoes.

Back and forth over the hills for a couple of days, watching the sun rise in the mornings and setting again in the evenings, days stretching out towards spring.

Later in the week a bit more time to waste, the long way in with company and coffee at the bus station before office time with a dull ache in the legs.

The decision to splash through the puddles on the track not used in a while because with the sun just rising into those clouds means I know when we pop out from between the hedges the view will be all “Would you look at that!”

Not quite such a long way home but using hills not used for a couple of months. Conditions improving.

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