Wednesday, October 05, 2011
life is warm
On days like this, I feel I am dangerously close to Andy Rooney, as depicted in a cartoon I saw this week – in it, he comments on everything and nothing. Mostly nothing. Yeah. Exactly.
But this is the way it is: a day blooms, I venture forth. This morning, in the bright, heavenly light of a warm fall day.
I’m out early and so I take the longer route. Mostly bike trails. Warm! One of those October days you can’t really believe is an October day.
My final bike lap is on State Street. Here I am, taking a photo while careening down the middle of the bike and bus only street. (Even Rosie isn’t welcome on it.)
In the evening, I bike from the Café to the farmhouse. Past fields of corn and meadows of autumnal prairie flowers. Most are dry now. But occasionally, I’ll still be able to pick out the asters and the goldenrod.
I ask my students if they like such splendid weather on days that are super busy for them. Most say no. Me, I’m thrilled with the warmth, the brightness, the idleness of my steps as I walk from the Law School to the bike rack, or to Rosie’s stand by St Francis (it’s where I park her).
There’s winter ahead. I know that. But in this week of drying corn, drying leaves, drying grasses, I can hardly remember what winter’s like. Life is warm. Life is good.
But this is the way it is: a day blooms, I venture forth. This morning, in the bright, heavenly light of a warm fall day.
I’m out early and so I take the longer route. Mostly bike trails. Warm! One of those October days you can’t really believe is an October day.
My final bike lap is on State Street. Here I am, taking a photo while careening down the middle of the bike and bus only street. (Even Rosie isn’t welcome on it.)
In the evening, I bike from the Café to the farmhouse. Past fields of corn and meadows of autumnal prairie flowers. Most are dry now. But occasionally, I’ll still be able to pick out the asters and the goldenrod.
I ask my students if they like such splendid weather on days that are super busy for them. Most say no. Me, I’m thrilled with the warmth, the brightness, the idleness of my steps as I walk from the Law School to the bike rack, or to Rosie’s stand by St Francis (it’s where I park her).
There’s winter ahead. I know that. But in this week of drying corn, drying leaves, drying grasses, I can hardly remember what winter’s like. Life is warm. Life is good.
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