Given the choice I’d hop on my bicycle on a bright sunny day and just take one of our small, Irish country roads and keep following it. The pace would be gentle. The breeze would always be pushing me along even on the return journey! In my pannier, I’d have a lunch and some snacks. On my handlebar bag there would be a map (in case I got lost) and my camera.
As I pedaled along I would stop to take photographs of all the interesting things I’d see. Flowers in the road verge, old abandoned farm buildings, a donkey, a lake and if I was really lucky something really special like an otter.
It happened once. We were cycling around the North of Scotland. We’d had some wet days of slogging, but this day was bright and sunny. We’d stopped to watch some golden eagles soaring above us. Below us on the right, lay a rocky shore and the sea. A grass and heather bank rose steeply to the left. I heard a shuffling and then just ahead something emerged from the grassy bank. A dark head, an otter’s head. It sauntered across the road, grazing briefly at us. We could hardly breathe. We were close enough to see its whiskers. My hand was on the handlebar bag, but I knew this was a moment to savour – not one to be fiddling with catches trying to get a camera out of a bag. Before scampering down the bank to the waters edge the otter gave us one last look. We watched as it nimbly made its way through the rocks and vanished into the water.
Posted in response to today’s daily prompt https://dailypost.wordpress.com/dp_prompt/the-happy-wanderer/