Are your weekends on your scooter or motorcycle a riding kaleidoscope?
Some days, I swear I see better than others. Objects seem to leap out toward my eyes and landscapes become small cinematic experiences. It’s like a riding kaleidoscope where there’s a constant change of pattern, texture and form.
Or maybe it’s just my imagination.
Out early on Saturday morning in hopes of beating the heat seemed like a good plan but by 9am the temperature was already above eighty-degrees — hell for someone like me who thrives in the fifty to sixty-degree range.
Some riders would feel a thrill at the sight of a sign warning of winding roads ahead with the attendant leans and lines as they hurtle along. My Vespa and I are lollygaggers with little interest is speed. I just thought the sign looked neat. And to offer some hope to those in the midwest who live in grids.
The rain and sunshine have created a lush landscape of plants. The fragrance of flowers fill the air and the heat has driven me to my vented summer riding jacket. You can often tell from the photos when I stop to smell the roses — the helmet comes off meaning I want to look around.
The scenery changes mile by mile, around every bend almost. What a fine day to ride the scooter.
When I left home I didn’t have a destination. Wasn’t really sure if I wanted to ride or stay home and work in the garden or visit my granddaughter who I see far too infrequently. I find it a bit unsettling riding when I don’t know where I’m going, especially at intersections where I make a choice of left or right based on a feeling without a focus.
Where am I going?
What’s nice about riding the Vespa, or pretty much any two-wheeled machine, is the relative ease in making changes in course and direction. At this intersection I eventually turned around and decided to go the other way.
There was a time when I would take my boots off and wade in the water. Now I just look, maybe make a photograph, and keep my distance from anything so juvenile as getting my feet wet. Still, it’s a lovely pastime to wander along a stream with a camera.
Wished I had seen a muskrat. Or an otter. What a wonderful view in my riding kaleidoscope.
The quiet loneliness of a rural road transited on a Vespa scooter rises to the level of near perfection for me. Ride at my own pace, stop when I want, go when I want, go where I want. These empty places are the stuff of dreams and memory that I’ll one day be replaying.
I do love these rural roads.
Pausing for a few bites of a sandwich and to rehydrate before moving on to a discovered destination just outside of Bellefonte, Pennsylvania — Nature’s Cover where I would order two truckloads of stone for our garden.
I’ve become adept at sitting and emptying my mind of thoughts (without falling asleep) and just absorbing the worlf around me. I scribbled no notes. Just stared off in the distance until a conversation behind me broke the spell.
Three mallard ducks began to talk to me, no doubt interested in an arrangement which would include me sharing part of my lunch with them. Don’t feed the ducks. I learned that a long time ago.
A no nothing ride. Nothing special or unique. But an eclectic riding kaleidoscope of scenes that are now firmly stored in my gourd.
Ah, the Vespa…