Golden Evening Bike Ride
So when you get an evening like the one today, where would you rather be ?
I left work and headed for dad’s and sat for a while on the patio with dad and Martin. Tea and cake in the late afternoon sunshine, watching the young starlings squabbling and squawking and the pigeons nicking the bird food and the squirrel making the most of the nuts Martin had put out. Dad decided he wasn’t that hungry and didn’t want a lot for tea – until I suggested an omelette. That did the trick and he tucked into said dish with relish.
Walking home I decided it was just too lovely to sit indoors, so dragged the bike out of the shed, pumped up the tyres and with a bottle of water and a couple of cameras, headed off down to Byewaters. It was the first time I’d been on my bike in months and was pleased my balance wasn’t off. The canal would not be a good place to wobble into!
The swan was on her nest, the eggs not yet hatched. Mallard, geese and a moorhen paddled up and down, probably glad the cob wasn’t around at that point to shoo them away. The surface of the canal was covered in a film of fallen blossom, turned to fluff now. I paused on the bridge at Common Moor and then decided to head down the towpath to Lot Mead.
The water was very still and the reflections were amazing, as was the light and the colours. Stopping every few yards to take a photo, I finally arrived at Lot Mead. Sometimes there’s a heron on the far side of the lock looking for fish, but not today. The cottage, all painted white with its picket fence and wisteria around the porch looked lovely. Should I cycle on ? Or be sensible and head back ? I rode on, thinking I’d just pop down to Batchworth Lock and then turn around. Afterall, as I had said, it was some time since I had been on my bike and the legs weren’t used to the exercise. You always have to remember that however far you go, you have to ride the same distance home again.
There were a few more boats than usual, as I’d guessed, it being the Rickmansworth Canal Festival this coming weekend. I made it to Batchworth where a working boat was going through the lock, so parked up my bike and sat on the steps in the warm sunshine to watch it sail on its way. There were quite a few people about; walkers, joggers, cyclists, dogs. After a few minutes I thought I would just pop up to the Aquadrome and see if there were any swans about. There were certainly a lot more boats along this stretch of the canal. I stopped and took a photo of the artwork on the side of Tescos – there’s a new piece of local art every year. The Tesco sign reflected brightly in the water, eventually disturbed by some more geese.
I turned off the path and headed around Batchworth Lake. There were one or two anglers casting their lines, but the birdlife seemed to be over the far side, so I detoured out through the car park and back in to stop by Bury Lake. Just up passed the Cafe in the Park, a fleet of model sailing dinghies were bobbing about and out on the lake itself a couple of canoes (or kayaks) were being paddled with ease. The sun was gorgeous. Dazzling. After a few minutes a swan swam close to the bank and out came the camera again. Then another joined it and stood in the shallows preening itself. I could have stayed a lot longer. It was warm and peaceful and golden. Photographers actually call it the ‘golden hour’. I hope it’s a portent of the weather to come for the weekend.
But it was time to head home so it was back to the towpath – the quickest and flattest route. As I reached Batchworth Lock again, there were a handful of people gathered just on the far side of the bridge, so I stopped and dismounted and then realised what they were looking at; the Phoenix Morris Dancers were there, in all their finery, bells-a-ringing, sticks-a-clacking, clogs-a-tapping. I love it. Smiling at the serendipity of it, I took a few photos and then wheeled my back up to the lock where a guy was sitting with an enormous Irish wolfhound. I took a couple more photos and then set off again. Just as I did so, the bells of St Mary’s rang out – must have been bell-ringing practice. How delightful. How very English. How could you not smile at such simple joys?
The ride back was a little slower. The sun was sinking, but the light was still beautiful. The canal was still casting reflections, disturbed only by fish jumping for flies and the birds were indulging in evensong.
The last lap from Byewaters to home was somewhat uphill and my legs were really feeling it by now, but I kept going. There was a sense of achievement when I got back and staggered through the gate. My first ride in months and I had got all the way to the Aquadrome and back.
So, the question ………… where would you rather be on such a fabulous evening ? I know my answer. England.
