Tonight I rode through a windstorm of downy tufts that had fallen from all the London plane trees that line my cycle route.
The air was awash with pollen and discarded flowers. It looked like a cloud of giant, yellow insects, swirling and gusting all around me.
The stuff went up my nose, in my eyes and down my throat. When I stopped at the traffic lights at Hyde Park Corner I saw that all the pedestrians were wearing the ‘tufts’ in their hair like weird decorations that had been caught there, unable to escape.
And here I was thinking that the only hazard I had to watch out for when riding my bicycle was busy London traffic – and the odd rogue duck!