Ok, I’ll admit it. When I woke up to gray skies and blustery winds, I considered *not* taking a bike ride today. I mean, I enjoy spending time in the smallest chain ring, but I just wasn’t sure I felt like working that hard this morning. S. pointed out that I could always go out for a short ride and come right back. Excellent plan. I donned my layers, took a right out of the driveway this time, and headed toward town. About half a mile in I was reminded that it is always a good idea to go for a ride. The wind wasn’t bad and the views went on forever. I stopped right before Inverness to watch a couple of horses snack on hay, and I heard the gurgles of so many birds. I snapped this picture of part of the crazy stretch of birds flying together against the clouds. Everyone was headed the same direction, but at intervals three or four would turn around and, in my anthropomorphizing mind, work as crossing guards, herding everyone into lines, keeping things orderly. They were noisy and beautiful and I was completely irrelevant–perfect. I rode through and around the silent town, outrunning dogs, studying cypress in the bayou, wondering if that was a cotton gin, and then headed home to a hot shower, an extra soft, extra large sweater, and some footbal. Like I said, perfect.
As I sit here watching the snow pile up the envy grows.
Great post, Kate. The Delta is surely a fine place in winter!
What a cool picture. It’s also cool that you are looking all around. Much to see.
Kate, I am enjoying hearing of your rides in rural settings. My favorite places to ride. There’s much less of that “absolutely ubiquitous” stuff plaguing urban settings, except, of course, the occasional “Jones for Coroner” or “Hay For Sale” sign. And, the peace! I so enjoy the meditation, if you will, when only the whirr of the tires and wind through the spokes is to be heard. Thanks for your writing.