Like old friends?

I have been cycling to work along the same route for about five years. I take the shortcut over the Marshes and up into Hackney, East London. It’s a quiet, off-road route—a pleasant, easy ride with only one hill. As I pedal along the hedge-lined road, I see the same regular faces. We pass by briefly; sometimes we make eye contact, and sometimes we do not. I suppose the other cyclists are commuting themselves… heading off to work.

The funny thing is that there are only two people, out of the twelve or so regular riders, to whom I bid a “Good morning” or say “Hello.” I do not know who they are, what their names are, or anything about them, yet I say “Hello” or “Good morning” to them as if they are old friends.

I probably wouldn’t even recognise them off their bikes.