powered by SignMyGuestbook.com

Recent News... Just for Pope Gregory... Finding the nativity An accelerated rate To tell the secrets of my prison-house House and a shelf

2006-04-03 - 10:28 p.m. The longest ride The first biking of the season is the longest ride, in time, if not in distance - find the gloves and sunblock and helmet you'd misplaced, finally readjust the seat, discover you left water in the bottle all winter and an algae civilization of such complexity has formed you feel guilty about the bleach rinse, as if sanitation will kill the paramecium Picasso aborning. (Yes, my dreams were particular bizarre last night. Why do you ask?) And, wow are the tires flat. Funny, I can never remember my parents ever reinflating my bike tires. Ever. Maybe it was parent-Santa magic, always done when the kids weren't around. Did I spend my childhood riding on the rims, or am I just a grown up engineer with a psi gauge and the knowledge a reading of 70 gives a smoother ride? Sunday. Halycon. Light cerulan sky. Perfect 70 degrees with no humidity. Trees raining petals as you glide past. The air tastes clear and pure and true, like I've always imagined the water of Narnia's Endless Sea. (You go, Reepicheep.) Then there was the hill back from Alan & Gen's. Wheeze. Pant. Wheeze. Am I ever out of shape. Three short pitiful miles, then a collapse in the grassy side yard where my neighbor's piano playing lulls us to lie still. Almost still enough to feel the Earth rotate as we watch the planes make comtrails overhead. Almost. But then, I went back to work on Monday. That'll knock the relaxation right out of you. � � Scribble to Theo previous - next �