Just been on an evening ride up to the beacon, it’s a good old pull on the bike, good for the legs and the incoming MTB trip across the lakes with the boys in May. I took a Swedish beer with me, a bag of hula hoops and the two dogs - Tarka on a lead, as I feared she would bolt. As I was riding up the hill, I realised I had forgotten my phone. I thought about heading back and then I thought, no fuck it, I will only doom scroll. So I sat on the bench and drank my beer, the dogs fiddled about and all was calm. I could have learnt about that lunatic in America, who someone failed to shoot today, or right wing racist comments, or I could have viewed AI of some riot in London that never happened. I could have got really frustrated with the inability of every UK media organisation to give fair unbiased commentary and celebrate the good as well as sensationalise the bad for more clicks. - but I didn’t. No, none of that wasteful crap. Instead I watched swallows flit and flirt on the line, picking up twigs and detritus for their nests, discussing that epic trip back from sub-Saharan Africa, I watched a corvid and a buzzard AKA, Nigel, spar off against each other over the munching dairy herd below. The skylarks weren’t as obvious as last time, I guess the silaging has put paid to their nests. And then there was the sound, a symphony of bird song, like an orchestra warming up, every sound was heard. In the distance I could see Exmoor, brooding on the skyline, with the feint sound of a lawnmower back in the village. BUT I saw no-one, I had my own thoughts inspired by being in the moment, I wasn't influenced by anyone, I didn’t feel low or desperate about the world beyond - I just felt calm, I felt my breath, I found myself.