I don’t usually ride my bike with other people. When I go out for a ride it is usually so I can be alone, not because I’m thinking terribly deep thoughts, but kind of so I can empty out, not pay attention to anything but the road, the traffic, and whatever pops into my view. And sometimes I’m just trying to get somewhere, as fast as I can. Tonight, though, I rode back home with B., after a lovely evening out with a whole slew of good friends. Now, B. is a new rider. Tonight she rode–by herself–from the Lower Garden District down to the Bywater. I could tell, when I met her, that she was seriously feeling the bike. She gushed about it–kinda gave it away. We rode back Uptown together, me leading the way, rear blinker doing its lighthouse impression. I was riding much slower than I normally would, and it just felt different. A cool night, a caressing breeze, to borrow from a woman I met tonight, and a leisurely bike ride home, plenty of time to see everything in its evening stillness. I couldn’t figure out how to take a picture of that.
You painted a picture in words. I can see it. It looks perfect.