The Quiet Early Morning

At 6:30 the morning is very quiet, especially on a Sunday.  Rattling along on the bike I could listen to the birds singing as I headed up the Matterhorn like incline at three miles an hour.  Someone, slightly fitter than me raced past at five miles an hour, giving a grudging nod in my direction as he did so.  I noticed how he slumped down to three miles an hour further up however.  There is something blissful in such an early morn.  The silence, even the by-pass was relatively quiet, the birds singing or chasing one another through the trees, the lack of people, especially brats, the warmth of the sun as it climbs high and brightens the world.  All such a change from the vehicles outside my door, the numpty with 'Rap' blasting out his open window as he passes, people stopping to converse at my window enthralling me no end with tales of the sore feet and liver troubles,  the helicopters that must pass over my house and now I turn the telly on I am confronted by another bloody cook and to avoid this I meet with adverts!!!  Now I am not one to complain as you know, but really does my weekend need ruined by such as this, especially when there is no football?  

I apologise for keeping you waiting and I apologise for using so many words!!!!!