You began the office day at 8am feeling empowered by a programme of tasks you were going to get through by 4pm. Then, as new priorities barged in by phone and email, you started going backwards. By noon that zipped-up frustration was close to bursting out: you wanted to tell someone you were going to jack it in. As if.
Inhaled a sandwich at 2pm. Got back to the programme. Eased away from the building by bike at around 5.40pm. The trail was flecked with sunlight, tarmac already dry in stretches after light showers. A ride that never fails to soothe.
A remarkable new species of GF biscuits emerged from the oven as you got home. The best ever.
wing leaves cover the avenue