I went for a solo-cycle the other day, by the river, in the sun. I really enjoy being alone, in the moment with nothing to answer to but my own thoughts. The sun was glorious and the wind was fresh against my skin.

I smiled, a contented smile and revelled in how I was doing exactly what I wanted at the exact moment I wanted it. The frustrations of the week; memories of the anxiety of forced interaction with others were passing me as I cycled on, gradually picking up pace but never feeling stressed.

I was interrupted by splashing in the river and turned my face towards it, thinking perhaps some idiot were swimming. Although it was beautiful, I could not imagine swimming in that river. Where I looked, there were ripples in the glassy surface and then a fin! I stopped my bike and stared in wonder at the Dolphin breaching the water every few seconds.

I squealed with delight “HA!” and looked around me hurriedly for someone to share the moment with. I wanted to say “A dolphin! Look! A dolphin right there! Look how amazing it is!”, but there was noone around me. I was disappointed then, that I was alone.

It passed me quickly and reappeared metres further away until it was unable to be seen by my failing eyesight. I looked after it for a long time, hoping that someone would notice it down the path in front of me and react in the same way. I hoped that I would see the same reaction in someone else – that I could connect on some level to another person right then.

I had that moment entirely to myself and ironically, I realised I didn’t want it be my own.