And then some days you just want to mindlessly pedal and listen to music and say your how-you-doin’s to other people doing the very same thing. Monday was that day, so after getting caught up on work emails all afternoon, I hopped on my bike and headed out in the Labor Day humidity for a ride around the Druid Hill Park reservoir. I only made it a quarter of a lap before I wanted to sit and stare at the city and drink some water–it was really hot out there. I sat and stared and remembered when this green expanse was covered with daffodils at the beginning of spring and how soon enough it will be bare with winter, because time passes, and at the park, the passing is completely predictable. The trees will turn soon, and then be all twigs until spring when they’ll turn bright green before bursting into flowers again. The cloud of gnats that hit me square in the face on the far turn will finally dissipate and the Jones Falls Trail out past the zoo will get its gold leaf carpet. The zig zag down to Woodberry will be just on fire with fall soon enough, but on Monday it was still green. I rode around Woodberry for a bit before climbing back up the trail and past all the Labor Day cookouts and kids learning to ride new bikes and the last gasp of the summer swimmers at the pool and then I was back home and ready for some fall-like weather–let’s transition out of the heat and humidity, eh, Baltimore?