Head out on my new bike bumping down the back lane. Red apples following gravity to the sea. No moon, pale turquoise green sky, ripples of white cloud on the western horizon catch the light and burn pink, orange, mauve as the sun sets on another summer. Fresh cool air tinged with cut grass and salt fish. No swallows, the tide fills the wreck of the Ocean Maid. Buttery toadflax in the skimpy verge by the Laira. Along the Ride, water, weed and debris sloshing onto the path. Huge bushes of golden fleabane gleam in the dimpsy light, and the path is flooded a foot deep by the travellers' camp - the kids say the water just came up out of the drain. Turn for home, the sky deep dark blue with grey stripes. No lights on my bike.

On Saturday the pale curl of a new moon.