A Tiding of Magpies

Winter is upon us; it is now often dark when I leave the office to ride home.

In the mornings, I travel to work via the Marshes. If I’m very early, I often spot wide-eyed rabbits and occasionally disturb a tiding of magpies.

In the evenings, when it is dark, things change. There are no street lamps on the small road that runs through the Marshes; it is often foggy, and when there is no moonlight, it’s just me and my bike lights.

It’s also quieter. There is still the ongoing background rumble of the city, yet it is quiet enough to hear my breathing and the hum of the Cannondale’s tyres on the tarmac.

Sometimes, things flash past me; they are almost close enough to reach out and touch. These other cyclists, the ones without lights, dart quickly by. I barely see them.

I ride under a small railway bridge. A train clatters above me; it’s literally inches over my head. Yellow light splashes from the carriages, and for a few seconds, there is nothing but noise and light.