Friday afternoon 5.01pm, the sun is hanging low in the sky and I get to finish work on time for the first time this week, so the long way home it is. Out of the car park and I rest my chilled hands on the bars as a wide grin fills my face. Very soon I'm swinging left towards the park and I shout hiya to a colleague on his way to catch the train home.
It's busy in the park. I wind my way through the people making their way home, tyres crunching over the twigs and leaf litter. The grin's still there, the sun is casting long shadows turning everying golden and lighting up the leaves. A couple of busy roads and a fast descent brings me to the road through Hursley, lots of traffic and a rotten surface. It's a relief to turn off into the lanes, the noise is suddenly switched off and it's just me and my bike again.
These are the quiet lanes and I see no-one. I ride through smoke from a bonfire and up the hill. I swing right at the bottom of a steep twisting descent and I'm in open country. High up ahead of me the Farley Mount obelisk is lit up in the sun, shimmering and white. Round a steep hairpin and up to the top of the hill. Tiny Farley Church looks lonely sat on the hilltop. I'm heading west and the sun is a golden globe sat above the horizon against a pale sky, the clarity is breathtaking.
I glance down at my watch and it's twenty to six, still some daylight left so it's right not left at the bottom of the hill. I swing into Parnholt Lane and I'm climbing steadily. The view opens up and the field to my right is backlit by golden sun and half a dozen of so deer are quietly grazing undisturbed.
This lane deteriorates into a bridleway so it's no cars guaranteed. I'm climbing towards the woods into a firey tunnel of red and orange and my tyres crackle over the dry leaves. After a mile or so the tarmac runs out and I about turn. That grin's wider than ever: I'm descending into the setting sun down the deserted lane, open fields to my right and a tree-lined hillside beyond them.
Round a sharp bend and I see a rider on his way up the hill, fat tyres so I guess he's on his way into the woods and into the twilight. Smiles exchanged as we pass.
On the home straight now through Braishfield. A line of tall trees pick up the last of the fading sun and I pass some Hampshire hogs in the field on my left. I can feel the evening chill on my bare hands and legs as I drop down through the lanes on the edge of town. Left and right into our road. The trees look beautiful and the leaves are lying all around.
On to the driveway 6.03pm and a moment or two to reflect on the magic of a bike ride at this time of year.
