Just another day in Busselton. We woke up to my cellphone alarm at six-o’clock. After letting my brain idle for five minutes and blinking at the early-morning light penetrating our bedroom window at light speed, I peeled the comfortable layers of bedding away from me and made a few basic preparations for a morning bicycle ride.
Fortified with two Satsuma (blood) plums and a mugful of water, I wheeled my lightweight road machine out of the doorway and onto the street. Quiet. Cool. Sharp sunlight. A very gentle breeze chilled me slightly and I lodged it firmly in place as my main motivation to cycle hard so that I could warm up. I headed out to the highway and crossed over it and then rode through the new housing estate to the pedestrian/cycle pathway that shadows the road to Margaret River. At the Vasse General Store I took an unfamiliar road striking out left to the west.
I passed paddocks for grazing and vineyards for picking. The road ran very straight, flanked by tall trees on either side that created a shady tunnel. A conduit to somewhere. I cycled until I saw a small old shack, dilapidated and rustic. Perfectly rustic. I took a couple of photos and then began the cycle home. Another day in the world. Another day of possibilities and perils. And breakfast.