Once I'd looked outside this morning and heard the gentle chug of early commuters getting their cars warmed up, I knew it was going to be a chilly journey into work.
I layered myself up. A buff to cover my face was necessary, even though after a couple of minutes your face will be moist with your own breathy vapour, this is still preferable to wintry air coarsing into the lungs.
Once I'd faffed about and fiddled with my lights with frosty fingers, I set off cautiously. After five minutes I had resigned myself to the fact that my eyeballs were frozen open and that I had a huge ice cream headache without even a mere glance of any sort of frozen treat. Even my teeth were cold!
Then, I turned off into the country road and caught a glimpse of loveliness. Fields lined with a fine coat of ice lead my eyes to deep oranges burnt into the horizon. This fiery light lifted into a myriad of glorious purply red hues. As I pedalled up the hill I looked back over Salisbury to see the silhouette of the spire against a soft mauve expanse.
I forgot about the cold and cycled to work completely in awe of this crisp, stunning winter's morning.
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