Off the top of my head, I don’t think any other weather-related word that is as evocative as ‘drizzle’. This morning, the higher I went, the thicker the drizzle. To be accurate, it was more a case of riding in low cloud than a rainy drizzle but the result was much the same. It wasn’t unpleasant because it wasn’t cold and it wasn’t thick enough to make me feel vulnerable.

The Red Kites seem to struggle with it which I guess makes sense as they’re trying to spot things to scavenge. They were wheeling around in the sky very low today and, it seemed, doing more calling to each other than they normally do. There were at least four circling around together by the church that sits on the straight road close to Hailey and Ipsden.

Thoroughly soaked roads at this time of year always carry a higher risk of punctures; the tiny bits of flint that have somehow been created over the summer all get washed down in the first few weeks of autumn/winter. After a while the puncture frequency lessens again. Today’s flat was irritating as it happened fairly near to home but it was no big deal to change the inner tube.

For a Saturday it seemed as if there were very few people about – the same impression I had this time last week. If that’s not an illusion, it’s hard to say if it’s a good thing or not. Presumably it means less ‘economic activity’ but no-one other than a fool imagines growth can carry on forever. Humanity needs to contract; the planet is finite. Perhaps fewer people out and about means they’re at home, getting on with stuff, with life, with relationships, with family and friends. Perhaps it’s going to herald more domestic tension and domestic violence.