I got my bike back today.  I can’t express how good it felt to be back on Rhoda, riding along the Mississippi River levee, listening to The Roots, doffing my invisible hat to fellow bicyclers, dog walkers, and scooterers.  Usually when I ride on the levee I notice the incredible contrasts, of the river on one side and the city on the other.  The beauty in the green and the water is so different from the power stations and the hospital parking lots.  The riverbank is host both to egrets and to excrescence; this summer’s refrigerator is still there amongst the grasses.  But today I didn’t notice much besides how good it felt to be back on my bike.  Until I got to the Huey P. Long bridge.  It’s pretty hard not to notice this thing.  I stopped to snap this picture, and others from every angle, trying to capture the mirror-in mirror-in mirror effect of the foundations and the giant construction project going on underneath.  The road behind me in this picture is labeled “private,” and I wondered who is privy to that road since we are all, in a sense, owners of the bridge over it.  Who owns public space, and who owns space made private by a segment of the public?  I’m not sure, but I am sure that today it felt good to be in public space with anonymous others, to hear the anonymous cars passing above, to watch the anonymous ships go down the river.  Because as much as riding puts me solidly in myself, it forces me outside too, reminds me the importance of outward focus.  I’m so happy to have my bike back.