A bit of morning

As the evening drew in, I decided to ride a bit longer. Riding 6 km stretches, no matter how consistently isn't preparation for a 50. Again, my meals had been erratic - crackers, fruits, milk and the like. Played a pretty intense hour of table-tennis before the ride began. There would be no stops.

As I crossed home, I was just a bit worried. There are days when the thought of a 150 km ride isn't worrying, but this 50 was. I had to keep the balance right - the right gear, the right cadence. There were paddy fields, filled to the brim with water, there were little huts, perhaps built to house water pumps or cattle, casting reflections. There were trees lining the ridges and everywhere else there was dust - crowding over the vague horizon like conspirators, dissolving roads, until pale shadows of tractors or carts emerged from them or a silhouette walked by. A tractor or scooter would suddenly make a turn towards the fields leaving brown clouds of smoke behind them. The last 10 km were not easy. Thirst took over. There were strong headwinds, which, elsewhere, bang doors, rattle windows, throw vases down. A paddy field lying under water can be mundane. Or not.

It was a fine evening. Quieter, and the songs even clearer.