“There’s even more to be said about leaving your bike on the side of the road while you scramble through a field to find yourself standing on a cliff-like edge, peering into a crater left by a bomb more than a lifetime ago. Minutes of stunned silence lead you back to your bike where, with a sense of disbelief and sadness, you try to imagine what the fields around you would have looked like covered in blood and snow and mud. As you pedal on, you glide by burial ground after burial ground, each with rows of crosses laying at peace among the poppies.”
