Spring riding

It’s been another stop-start spring here in the South of England. On Monday, I rode in full winter gear (windproof jacket, wool socks, Roubaix tights and gloves) – yesterday was shorts-and short-sleeved jersey. But while the weather seems unable to make up its mind, the rest of Nature is throwing itself into the season with gusto. Our woods are thick with bluebells, the hedges are spangled with stitchwort and primroses, and the beech trees are bright with delicate new leaves. Riding through the winter makes me appreciate the coming of spring all the more keenly; there’s a real sense of having earned the warmer days and dry roads. Which is what this little poem is about.


A mild wind
Pinned a primrose butterfly
To the first summer jersey
Of the year.

For a winter spent
Fighting ice and wild weather
Spring awarded me
Its highest decoration.


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