I've said before that one of the things I love most about cycling is the pace of travel; the opportunity to pass through the world not at a blur, but at a speed that allows me to see it, to enjoy it. Last night, on the ride home, I noticed a strange construction site at the end of the little road that goes over the dual carriageway. It stood out because it's on a bridal path in the middle of nowhere.
Last night, I didn't stop to investigate - it's always better to get home, right? - and that knowledge was still niggling me this morning. That knowledge, and the thought that not every ride is a race, encouraged me to stop this morning and investigate.
It didn't matter that I was already late, and had a busy day ahead of me; what mattered was the thrill of discovery, and of taking the opportunity that cycling affords; to pause for a few minutes and explore.
And what an unexpected delight; the Weymoor Bridge Project, a volunteer-led construction project to restore an ancient bridge. I was rather pleased to have stopped.
And, of course, I arrived at work with a spring in my step and a broader-than-usual grin.