Back in the saddle
Pól Ó Muirí
The bad weather has meant little opportunity to cycle. I knew the thaw had come in these parts when, after a number of barren weeks, I finally spotted a lone cyclist, then another which encouraged me to get out over the weekend. However, I mistimed my run home and found myself on the road as the sun set. I was on the high ground in south Antrim, turned a corner down a country lane for home and saw the sun dip across Lough Neagh and fall into the Sperrins in Tyrone. Honestly, it was breath-taking – and that is not just the tiredness talking. The sun was half behind the mountains, caught between orange and red, the hills silhouetted as they have been for thousands of years. Had you travelled to the furthest corners of the planet, you would not have seen a more picturesque view. That said, the temperature quickly dropped and I kicked for the finish line. Even more amazing, I could see mist beginning to gather and rise out of the fields around Lough Neagh and into the cold sky. It was like something Fionn and the Fianna would have encountered on their wanderings. I half expected to meet Bodach an Chóta Lachna.