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We are walking along the quiet lane that runs through the woods
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The London bus is crowded, its passengers are the normal blend of working class
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I nervously board the tube train; I am on edge.
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The sun has only been up for a short while but its warmth has already started to melt
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I leave the supermarket with two loaded bags of groceries; I’ve just spent 15 minutes in a checkout queue and glad to leave the noisy, chaotic
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Despite the punishing mid-day sun we decide to walk up into hills of Isola Maggiore.
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Winter is upon us; it is now often dark when I leave the office to ride home …
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The storm has been raging for two days; the autumn leaves that had been lying on the ground like damp confetti
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For a fleeting moment I allow myself to close my eyes…
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As a child I would sometimes stand in front the 70’s styled fireplace and gaze into the face of the wooden wind-up clock
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I leave the house for the first time in three days…
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I have come to the conclusion that urban rail travel produces a different set of behaviours to non-urban travel.
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I have been cycling to work along the same route for about five years
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I woke up early on Monday morning, and after breakfast I stood in the garden to drink my first cup of coffee of the day.
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7.30AM. I wake, rub my eyes, and get out of bed; I begin the daily ritual of preparing breakfast, bathing, and getting myself ready for work.
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Thousands of fragile tree leaves can be seen silently moving in the gentle breeze, their tubular conducting cells enable each leaf to sway
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During the summer months, I tend to be an early bird.
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It's starting to get a bit chilly, and I can see the first signs of autumn in the trees.
