I spontaneously decide
to get on my bike
and cycle to the grocery store.

I didn't think twice,
sometimes you don't need to,
intuition often works fine.
I grab my purse,
take my bicycle out the shed
and go on my way.

It feels like flying sky high:
the wind blowing hard in my back,
(force five)
pushing me along the road.
The cars pass me,
also seemingly without effort.
The shadows of the clouds
speedily move ahead of me.

After a while, I leave the green sea
of the countryside behind me,
as I turn on a path that runs
between two lines of trees.

An old man is on a walk
inside the peacefulness of the trees,
enjoying some time alone.
Once I leave this green corridor,
with a tall bridge in between,
I soon, maybe too soon, arrive in town.

Into the grocery store,
get what I need,
get in line to pay
and get back on my bike.
Time to go home.

Instead of making me happy
and blowing in my back,
the wind now blows in my face.
The muscles in my legs
soon start complaining,
thinking they work too hard.

In the green corridor,
I pass a mother
walking with her child
and taking out the dog.

Up the bridge again,
this time so much harder
to cycle upwards.
But also, much more satisfying
to not push the pedals
and still move forward
when you're on your way down.

This time round I need a few breaks,
as the wind causes my nose to run
and I need to use some tissues.

Out on the plains again,
I pass a woman
who's playing with her dog,
practicing its tricks
and playing with a ball.

I pass a man
cycling in the opposite direction,
the wind now in his back.
I feel jealous.

Finally some respite
as I cycle through a village.
The houses soften the wind.
But when the village ends,
the wind seems to blow
much harder than before.

I now envy all the drivers
in their cars, passing me easily.
As I approach the last turn in the road
I realize I don't care
that the wind tries to ******* off my bike.
*I'm almost home.