The Other Side of the Ocean
Wednesday, April 02, 2008
it’s time
I’m thinking – let’s not get soft here. Time to ditch the bus and start biking to work. My bicycle is refreshed, ready.
I bundle up. I understand my limitations. Wind blows and I get cold.
I set out. I am so bundled that I can hardly turn to spot the traffic. Still, I zip through Shorewood, across the field and onto the lake path. Ah, the lake path. So romantic.
So muddy.
I am covered with dreadful yellow grit. My bike has a case of yellow speckled fever. It’s all rather disgusting. The handbrakes sound grimy and unpleasant.
I’m not complaining really. I am hot from the four mile ride. But it’s a splendid ride. Good bye buses. See you next November.
(On the way home, I avoid the lake path. To be rewarded with this..
…and this…)
I bundle up. I understand my limitations. Wind blows and I get cold.
I set out. I am so bundled that I can hardly turn to spot the traffic. Still, I zip through Shorewood, across the field and onto the lake path. Ah, the lake path. So romantic.
So muddy.
I am covered with dreadful yellow grit. My bike has a case of yellow speckled fever. It’s all rather disgusting. The handbrakes sound grimy and unpleasant.
I’m not complaining really. I am hot from the four mile ride. But it’s a splendid ride. Good bye buses. See you next November.
(On the way home, I avoid the lake path. To be rewarded with this..
…and this…)
posted by nina, 4/02/2008 08:45:00 PM
3 Comments:
see - I told you the flowers would come.
I found I could bike in a windbreaker and ski gloves in freezing weather, back in the day, in Boston/Cambridge. The gloves were crucial, as was the windbreaker -- anything heavier and I'd be drenched by the time I got to school. Of course that was 24, 25 years ago. I'm not sure how well I'd cope now! You're a continuous source of inspiration, Nina.
It's when you're by yourself that the poet in you really registers in your work. At least, that's how I see it. Unique and personal. Everything counts.
q2
q2
