You know Spring is upon us when magpies begin to dive bomb. Today was my first of the season, along a route that I often ride, without previous incident. Despite being at a distinct disadvantage - the attacks are always from behind - it is possible to discern that something sinister is afoot. There are fleeting shadows and the fluster of wings. Occasionally the tell-take snap of a beak.

I don't blame the bird, of course. The nesting instinct is strong and I must look like an odd and potentially dangerous stranger in its midst. Ah, if only birds could measure the good intentions, but even they cannot read minds!