I had a day off from politics and the rest of the news yesterday. I drove east out of Derbyshire, through the Nottinghamshire countryside, loving the trees of Sherwood Forest and the rolling fields of arable crops, the blue sky and the towering white cumulus clouds. I was visiting my sister and family in Lincolnshire. It was a lovely day of catching up, raspberry picking and bike rides, and politics only came up when our brother rang from the continent.
So I arrived home refreshed, with an idea for a blog post bubbling in the back of my head. But then this morning I checked the news before writing, and read about the Bastille Day horror. So now I don't feel like writing a bubbly post about the odd things found around the place at Hepworth Towers.
I send my sympathy to the people of France and to everyone caught up in what happened last night.
I've just got back from a bike ride on the Trail. which is a good opportunity to think as well as to release some endorphins. I often edit my blog because of something that has occurred to me on a bike ride.
This morning, I realised that I usually don't mention terrorist atrocities on the blog, because I don't want to differentiate between the seriousness of a horrific attack in Europe from one in the rest of the world. I don't want to even imply that one is worse than the other. I didn't mention the Paris attacks, nor the one in Belgium, just as I didn't mention the one in Iraq on July 4th when over 200 people were killed. So why did I mention the one in Nice this morning? I think it's because it was such a shock. I am going to try to stick to my usual policy in future.