When I ride my bike I often find myself drifting in a sea of sounds - feeling the sonic waves wash over me. Some of the sounds come from the cityscape. There's the roar of the cars passing by, the footsteps of pedestrians, the calls of crossing lights announcing a change in state.

There's the sounds of the world within myself. The sound of my heart echoing in my ear. The rush of air flowing in and out of my lungs.

Then there's the layer of sounds coming from my bike. The crunch of gravel underneath, the rattle of the freewheel on the descents, the occasional creak from the pedals, the hum of the chain, the clicks and clacks of the derailleur, and the most beautiful sound of them all, the sound of the tires churning over the terrain. Captured in that sound is the concept of distance itself, the vastness of the world becoming an inviting embrace - a promise of roads yet to be explored. In that sound is the applause for all the energy you've expended. In that sound is a testament to the engineering and craftsmanship that has gone into cycling over the centuries.

The auditory experience of cycling is a huge part of my love for this pastime. And I'm grateful for the fact that it's something that I'm able to enjoy.