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Between the Storms

As the day tilts into action a thin gauze of cloud stretches across the sky. A meek light casts weak ghost shadows, there out of the edge of vision but disappear when I turn to look. An upside down world existing in a flooded farm track.

The sun rises through a bitterly eye-wateringly sharp wind. I sink into saturated earth, slip and slide left and right grasping for traction. My front wheel disappears into a puddle followed by my right foot. Away from the wind I bask in the apricity of the climbing sun, but as I turn towards the sea I feel the frigidity of the stiff breeze again. Stopping to close a gate I catch movement in the corner of my vision, turning I see two hares running across the bottom of a coombe towards woodland. I watch them until they disappear from sight and then head for the same woods. Drop to the main road and follow the cyclepaths towards Hidden Valley. Just got enough time to follow a path into the valley and back out past the farm. Crank the pedals to the seafront and back into the full force of the wind home along the coast.

Up and out with sun rise to play in the quiet cold and shadows. Sun reflects from the windows of the new house on the Tye. Pockets of frost and frozen puddles.

To as the radio masts and back, in and out of the low shadows and only the wind for company. The fizzle-hum under a pylon and the bright sparks of skylark song. A swirl of starlings and an ankle deep puddle.

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