This evening I took a cycle across Hampstead Heath, as dusk shaded into evening*. The sky was a slight sweep of water-clour blue, shading with delicacy into velvet purple/black. The ponds were sculpted into neat ripples that might have been obsidian.
Looking out over the blaze of London – dominated by the distant Canary Wharf towers – flickering as the conifers blew in the wind. I had a foreground of a couple of rabbits on the grass, unsure as to whether to regard me as a threat or a minor curiosity. An owl hooted from in the forest.
This is something I should do more often…
* If you read some of the horror stories you might think I was taking my life into my hands, but it didn’t feel at all dangerous – the hair on the back of my neck (which I consider highly reliable) remained perfectly flat.
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