Spring, Bikes & Cold Feet

Yep, it was just one of those weekends. The sun was still shining, so out came the picnic basket and the bikes.

No big plans. No “let’s go here” or “let’s do that.” Just the three of us — me, my husband and our boy — bikes, food, and off we went.

Living in France has this way of making even the smallest things feel like something. You don’t have to go far. You just… go. Down a lane, past a field, through a bit of woodland, and suddenly you’re somewhere that feels like a proper day out.

This time, we went to the river that rambles through our pretty town.

Now, my son obviously turned it into a full-blown expedition.

Every rock needed climbing.

Every stick had a purpose.

Even the magnifying glass made an appearance — burning leaves (safely, of course ).

It was the spring equinox too — one of my favourite times of the year. I always try to find some kind of water source, just to pause for a minute and give thanks for what’s been… and what’s to come.

When we got to the river, I set up the picnic, took off my shoes, and dipped my feet in.

And let me tell you — fook me — it was freezing.

Not “oh that’s a bit fresh.” No. Proper sharp, wake-you-up, what-are-you-doing kind of cold.

I lasted about 15 seconds. But also… it was exactly what I needed.

There’s something about it though, isn’t there?

It pulls you right into the moment. No overthinking. No mental lists. Just there. Feet going numb in a river, because you gave the hubby your phone to take some photos and he's being all arty trying to get 'the shot', child running about like he owns the place…

…and you thinking — yeah, this is actually quite nice. Such fun. 

We stayed for a few hours. A few nods of approval. A few what on earth are they doing looks from the locals trying to catch a truite or two and all the while, we’re just talking nonsense. Laughing at nothing. Doing things that probably don’t matter to anyone else, but feel important in the moment.

And I think that’s the bit.

Life isn’t always the big plans or the expensive days out.

Sometimes it’s just this. Cold feet in a river. Following your child down a path you didn’t even notice before and making memories.

No plan.

No pressure.

Just a day that turned into something.

Anyway… that was ours.

Tina x