The battered bike rests on tall silver birch tree, all alone.

Dirty Moss covers all the bike like a warm blanket.

Ancient sack lays on the rusty handlebars, containing several types of flowers.

Rough tyres dig into the ground, below it.

The tiny bell rests next to the ancient sack, waiting to be rung.

The saddle lays, staring into the thick mist around it.