England is a dirty place: With the vegetation at its annual lowest point right now, you can easily see through sparse hedgerows, grassy banks and ditches, and in all of it; on every lane, however far from towns, is rubbish. At its thinnest, you only see beer cans and McDonald’s wrappers every yard or so. I suppose, being generous, that some must be wind-blown litter, perhaps blown from uncapped bins. Riding along you can see some lanes have extra gatherings in places where there is some shelter- ditches, or maybe under a big tree. But, in openings, such as gateways, there can sometimes be seen a television set here, a flat-pack and old mattress there. Fly tipping. What is the motive for dumping this stuff- it’s not money: the car is loaded with junk, the council tip is paid-for in advance and the effort to drive to a gateway is the same as driving to a tip. So, it’s not laziness then, but what is it? Why do it?
I can see I need to work on commas in that passage.
At last; a decent, satisfying ride. The last ten felt like I was on the 100th mile ( and yes I do know what that feels like). took some photos on the phone, but can’t unload them for a few days yet. You’ll have to just wait.
Another long day, this one started at 5am.
Micycle 