A winterday´s ride with tea and a sunset

 It had snowed the other day, and I figured I make the best out of the situation, so I dressed up in warm clothing and got my new bike out. I built it myself out of new and old parts, but the frame is courtesy of Dennis from metal motion bikeshop, and boy, I can´t thank them enough. It simply rides great, long, but not too long, with a nimble and light feel in spite of being a sturdy construction. Even under the circumstances, technical trail riding was a cinch and a lot of fun. I must get accustomed to the feel when hopping around, but that´s only because the whole geometry is very different to my old bike, the trusty Norco many of my readers are still accustomed to.

 When I arrived at my favourite oak tree atop the hill, the sun was beginning to sink below the horizon. All was silent, and cold, and the tree was fast asleep. It is somewhat remarkeable, how silent things become in winter. Everything gets so much slower, and just we modern-day over-civilized humans forget that winter is an altogether different challenge. The running and buying and racing around Chrismas time we do is outright ridiculous. But I won´t change the world. Myself I can change, and I do.

 For there I sat down and had a cuppa tea. I would say I contemplated, or meditated, but I just sat there and breathed in the cold and brisk winter air and sipped my tea. It was really nothing I thought of, and I enjoyed it.

 Slowly the sun sank, going from a pale snow-laden yellow to darker orange, gildening the heath I sat on, and painting pictures into the forest.

 The oak leaves glowed orange, then in a fiery red; this is the fairies gold, and only a fool would have a greed to possess it in any other way than just sitting on a stump;-) enjoying it. The light is born, the dark is fading!

At the root of the oak tree with the tree stems there grows this little fir. I find this beautiful.

 Oh, and Asrun insisted to see a really lousy Gotland sheath. here it is. Now you know why I hadn´t posted it;-). But honesty lives longest, and here it is:

When the sun was setting and twilight started to cover the world, I looked into the sky, and there they were-the havens of twilight;-) where the grey elven ships sail towards a forlorn west;-). I took out my head lamp and rode home, my heart filled with the deep and secretive peace of winter.