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Ah, the British summer. Isn't that what we all say? But if you were out on the Common yesterday (Sunday 9th) you may well have been one of the hundreds, nay, thousands who turned up to sit, lie, throw, walk, run, cycle, eat or, like me, sit under a tree because your bike is broken.
Picture this, it's a lovely, warm summer's day, you have a brand new sparkly cycle in the garage awaiting your attention. Tentatively you wheel your new item of steely delight into the sun, and see yourself atop, cruising the gentle slopes of the common with the wind in your hair and... yes, until the damn thing breaks and you have to walk it a mile home.
And so once again, I sat beneath one of the many oaks that the Common proudly has and ate an ice-cream; not even the ice-cream of choice because some little sweaty oik probably ate the last one moments ago.
Nevertheless, after almost being hit by one rugby ball, tennis ball, and other cyclists (with fully functioning bikes of course), it's difficult not to enjoy and appreciate the space and the green, especially on a day like today when the clouds have once again taken over.
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