A Summer's Morning

I found myself on my bike, clipped and helmeted before I realised I was actually out of bed. Looking at my watch as I set off from the castle, I was slightly shocked at the earlyness of the hour, but the advantage was that I had the world almost completely to myself and I saw no cars at all as I headed up to the Braids.

Once there I shared the road with the ubiquitous rabbits, the magpies and the crows, who didn't seem much interested in a lone cyclist. A fox sauntered nonchantly across my bows before realising I was there and taking off at a run into the hedgerow.
The Tower Farm horses were standing stock still in a group in the adjoining field enjoying the early sun warming their backs, and not bothering about ladies on bicycles.

Looking towards North Berwick, the sun was up and there was a pathway of gold on the waters of the Forth while to the north and west the Kingdom of Fife lay hidden behind a bank of low mist with only the tallest hills visible above it.
The sky was a pale blue shot through with patches of mackerel clouds and streamers of pale grey like crushed velvet.

I parked the bike and went through a gate into the golf course where the greens and bunkers were dappled with sunlight and the grass heavy with dew.
It was so peaceful with no noise of cars and motorbikes speeding along what is a rat run from Liberton to Fairmilehead that I could imagine being in the depths of the countryside.

But it was time to return home before the commuters took over.
A shower and a read in bed before getting up again with the rest of the world to find the sky had lost all the clouds and was uniformly deep blue. A magical summer's morning.

I took several blips today but I felt that this one summarised for me the early morning light on my favourite railings on Braid Hill Road.