April, you Fool

[Sweder]

5 gentle, easy miles this evening across the sunlit downs.
What a contrast to my last outing here just ten days ago, when visibility was down to a few metres (see photos below).

Planet Rock provided an almost flawless soundtrack to my journey. Born to Run took me up the steepest outward climb, That's Entertainment strummed away as I surveyed the magnificence of a bright Sussexscape basking in the late spring sunshine, scattered white clouds casting lazy shadows across the plains.

Homeward bound off the Cap I ran a quick systems check. Everything seemed in good working order. I felt full of beans, bouncing along the dry yet yielding grassy trails; plenty more gas in the tank, exactly the feeling I was hoping for. Rush covered Cream (in turn covering Robert Johnson), offering an excellent and hitherto unheard (by me) version of Crossroads. I thought it would be pretty hard to top that. I opened the gate to the last sheepfield, Lewes shining below me under the white chalk of The Cliff, the Ouze river wandering off towards Newhaven, the lofty perch of Firle Beacon climbing in the distance. The first silken strains of Stairway to Heaven filled my ears. I smiled; thank you, Gods of Rock, this is some send-off.

The hounds joined me for the last mile, trotting happily, tongues lolling as we set off for home. Bonham joined Page as Plant pondered the bustle in the hedgerow; I picked up the pace to match the musics' mood. By the time we'd passed the water station, into the descent to Hawkenbury Way, Zeppelin were in full flow, the power of the finale the perfect soundtrack to my pounding tread. Still I held back, resisting the urge to lengthen my stride and sprint the last few hundred metres. Round the last corner, onto the tarmac and the crescendo began to fade, the final soft intonation floating through my head as I reached the gate.

A beautifully timed finish to one of the best short runs I can remember.
A few stretches, a couple of glasses of water and a change of togs. Now, the Masters preview, Arsenal to turn over the Old Lady in Turin and a good night's kip.

I might just slip on Lou Reed's Perfect Day before I turn in.

[SIZE="1"][COLOR="RoyalBlue"]Two from last week, two from today:
What a difference a week makes.[/COLOR][/SIZE]