Clouds are rare in the vast blue sky, the radiant sun burns cold and bathes everything in an amber glow, gusts of cool winds creep through my layers of clothing and get under my skin, my hands and feet are cold. Autumn is here.
Golden leaves pirouette down skeletal trees in the forest like corpses of a summer left behind, blown away in a spiral of wind in a final dance before brushing against my face and dying in gold and rust-coloured pools on the ground.
Roads stretch out as far as I can see like a silvery snake in a river of molten lava, the air infused with the earthy smell of the winter welcoming mat.
Wheels rolling on a rich artists’ pallet of crunchy leaves, water-infused grasses, gravel and mud. The hills and heathland are aflame in a riot of gold, red and yellow.
As the day wanes, the vast blue sky slowly turns a bleak white and gusts of freezing winds gently bring to mind the dark freezing night that is coming soon and the warm embrace of a fire will be waiting and giving us respite and comfort before our next ride.
Words and photos by @carinesinsta