A quick digression...

I got up before 4am. I photographed some blossom on Crayford marsh a few years ago; the light was poor but at least I have a record of it. I was there a week ago and there are signs it’s coming, so I hoped for a coincidence of sunlight and flowers to repeat a couple of snaps more brightly, but the scene I wanted was still featuring bare branches. It should have been good with a west wind lining up as well. I went by the main roads because I thought it would be faster than the riverbank. I won’t do that again. I’ve never seen the Erith that isn’t by the river, and it seems to have a plague of racists with ladders, cheap flags, and zip ties. US friends may not understand. I believe they fly flags all the time because they’re insecure, and insecurity may be the root of racism here, although it’s pumped up with a dose of Murdochian nastiness. Come to think of it, the US has that poison too, but old monkeyglands and his vicious bile is a darker path for another day.

I could have left it later, but I knew the cat would be up to greet, play, and then start the noisy campaign for Breakfast Now and Lots Of It. I was out of the door before her ladyship caved and fed him.

The overnight rain stopped as forecast, almost to the minute. I was over-confident and got slightly damp. Habit took over and I missed a few chunks of the novel but recommended two hours five minutes road route and it took nearer three. This could all happen again in a few days, but I know now what to edit, amend and to stick closer to the river path I could ride in my sleep. Big Ben (yeah, I know, I live here, I’ll call it what it like) knocked out 0530 as I passed and the South Bank was deliciously empty; the officious jobsworths by Tower Bridge don’t come on until 0600 so I flew that bit and onto Jamaica Road.

I got beautifully lost around the back of Thamesmead, a ride through lovely fresh fields and trees I could skip next time since the riverbank is fast there, but there’s a better way to cut off Greenwich domeland than the mess I got myself into.

I made it anyway, got what photos I could, and while I was there I took a muddy ride upstream alongside the River Darent to see the River Cray. It is a pretty little stretch and I have wondered about it from the doings of Crayford Marsh’s Friends. But it was unpleasant from where that path joins up with the road to a consolation silhouette selfie on Erith Pier.