We don't need no pictures....

I ride along, completely lost in the thought of sunrays fighting through multiple layers of sunscreen on my arms. I obviously missed a spot. A sudden gust of wind wisps over the grass fields, slightly nudging me to the gritty outside of the trail, and a small rock slaps against my fender before leaving me with only the zip of my tires on the fresh blacktop. I am surrounded by pristine farmland - the only evidence of human existence a faded tractor path where the crops have already risen back up to the sun. Suddenly a rabbit, startled by my flash of orange, flees for its life 200 meters forward before finally taking one powerful leap to the side. I switch hand positions again as we come around a blind corner. Wildflowers and faint peppermint fills the air. A long driveway to my right leads to a thatch roofed cottage that looks like something from the movies. A large round window reveals a pair of weathered legs kicked up in a recliner, but there is not the usual glow of a television set; only books, flowers and paintings. My mind drifts again to simple pleasures like bread, cheese and tomato. A fresh Braeburn apple. I grab a plastic spray of water and ignore the burning in my thighs as I accelerate towards to the next large village with a small market. First though, I must dismount to open yet another sheep gate. I clangs behind me and I before the first 'baah' I am back up to speed.