Tiny Moments #173

There has always been something utterly ludicrous about English schools having ‘summer’ holidays when they do. I am reminded of this peculiarity today when, riding out of Tipton St John towards the coast at Sidmouth, a horse-chestnut falls from an overhanging bough and clatters off my helmet. Later too, at the end of my ride passing Dane’s Wood, a tractor ploughs a recently harvested field, turning the earth back to the deep Devon red. Once again it feels like summer is departing just as ‘summer’ begins.

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