I’ve been riding my bike this past month–it’s how I get everywhere I go–but I’ve been so snowed under with other writing and work that I haven’t had the energy to write about what I’ve been seeing. Last week I looked up, noticed the bay windows along Park Avenue, and noticed that I haven’t been looking around much these days. The only fix for that is a longer bike ride without a set destination, and I got that today. I took off south and then east and then south, ending up on Biddle. I rode Biddle as far east as I could go, rolling up and down block after block of vacant homes, busy stoops, corner stores, and trees growing out of the seams of buildings. I took a right on Edison Highway, taking the lane, because that’s what you have to do for cars to see you as you crest that hill. I made a quick stop to wave at the ladyfriend’s window at work and then zigged and zagged through Highlandtown, past the proposed $400,000+ condos on Conkling (ru srs?) and down to Canton for lunch and some work. I took the lane on Boston on my way home, a stop for coffee and more work, and then up over Edison Highway again. I stopped to snap this picture of the train tracks under Edison, cloudy early fall skies, grateful for a day like this one. And then it was back on the bike, a left on Biddle, right on Highland as far as it would go, another left and a right, through Clifton Park and back to home. It felt so good to stretch my legs with my eyes open, a reminder that riding around this town and taking streets to their ends is absolutely essential to my sense of belonging in this place. It’s good to be home.