Even this morning, I took a chance on one last ride (in March) to work, taking one last glance at the receding ice on the waters.
One smile for the worker taking down a sign on Union Terrace (so ironic).
One lonely person by the icy water’s edge.
I’m wearing a lighter jacket and pedaling home, I push myself to go faster, trading a windy ride for a more energetic and therefore heat generating workout.
In the late afternoon, the skies look dismally wintry. Ed says – let’s have a game of tennis. Tennis?! We haven’t played since Hatteras, North Carolina. What happened in the ten months since?
I’d forgotten how bad you are at it – he tells me, perhaps to goad me into trying harder. But my mind drifts to thoughts of the long-term. Beyond the semester kind of long-term.
I miss three more volleys and say – let’s go home.