I used to think that cycling was a revolutionary act
Great exercise
Pollution-free
No sedentary commute to work for me
No - or at least less - road rage
Whooping for joy as I sailed downhill past a queue of static cars
The faces of their drivers locked into a tense grimace
I would often write some of my best songs on these journeys
Lyrics and music dropping unbidden into my lap
As I threaded my way along the dappled paths of Selly Oak Park
Feeling like a cipher for some higher musical authority
But two months into quarantine and my feelings have changed
It is walking that is truly revolutionary
To trundle along at three miles per hour in this turbocharged world
This seems like true rebellion
Instead of being a blur the ground is clear beneath my feet
The lens has been cleaned to help me see more clearly
No need to slam on the brakes to stop and inspect an interesting find
Easy to do an impromptu litter-pick
No problem navigating a steep path strewn with tree roots
Or taking a meandering detour through woodland terrain
Today I stopped to chat to my old neighbours on a grassy path through a meadow
On a bicycle I would never have struck up a conversation with Mick* the park attendant
Walking is showing the finger to the car industry
Walking fills my head with ideas
Walking is comfort to the mind
Walking is balm to the soul
Walking is a joy
[*Not his real name]
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