Sun flickers through icy fog
Driving to the forest screen sodden with damp due
Arriving to the sounds of bikes, people and dog

Starting out with cold hands
I take the six mile trip
Like some middle age horse
My breath forms an airy aerosol in front of me

Trail shoe lugs grip in
Legs begin to loosen
As my hands move from cold to luke warm

Bikes and people cross at invisible traffic lights
Smiling runners greet me half way through
My cadence quickens

The gate beckons
I stop to walk
Time to stretch
Time to talk