The wind

The clock says 13:27 when I leave out the front door. My clock is supposed to say 14:00 when I arrive. The bike ride should take me about an hour.

For the long stretch to the bridge I'm bent over at the waist, leaning over my handle bars, as the wind slams against me in waves. My muscles burn as they turn the wheels. At some points the wind hits speeds where I have to lower my gears or risk the pedal breaking off from my bike. The click of the chain locking into it's new position, causes me to slump in my seat.

Near the bridge, there a giant field along the side of the bike path. As usual, there are a few people with kites there. As I look sideways at them, I see one person flying across the field. Left. Right. Up a bit with the wind. They're far away, but it looks like they've got something on their feet. Giant grass ski's maybe? Their kite is in the air, zigzagging back and forth, and there they are beneath it, being propelled this way and that.