A New Day
Took the freeway to work one day this past week. A crisp clear morning, a spine pretending to almost be normal, I stopped to enjoy a moment alone on the road. It’s a communion of body, mind and spirit that sweeps past unlooked for but welcome. A simple pleasure that can’t be bought or planned. A gift I’ve opened and received gratefully as a rider.
Simple Pleasure – a dog in the garden
Being open to the small moments that flame life takes practice. Lest I miss them, I need to slow down and transform my eyes from detection devices into tools for introspection and insight. Noticing Lily stalking through the garden grass, I realize how much there is around me that I don’t want to miss.
Riding a scooter, going forth on a motorcycle, these exercises have cleared my eyes.
Riding Shrine
There are moments when my Vespa ascends from riding contraption to shrine. It usually happens when it’s standing in some lush promontory where it stands against a wider world. After weeks of nagging irritation from my back, it was a joy to face the morning and feel good about riding, the job I was moving toward and the knowledge that life was rich as a result of a few simple pleasures.
Tea, Light and Friends
An hour in Saints Cafe, some hot tea and conversation with a friend; it’s a simple pleasure that requires only an investment of time on my part. Time that, in almost every case, returns far more value than the cost of admission.
A Ride Home
My back has recovered enough to ride back and forth to work. I’ve learned to sit up straight to minimize fatigue to that area of the body. Still experimenting with the rougher experience of riding on gravel roads as habit leads me to old cow paths on the ride home. The dazzling light of a low sun at the end of the day is a simple pleasure that I don’t embrace nearly enough.
Is there a good reason why I don’t see more sunsets?
Milk in Glass Bottles
Twenty four hours ago the milk in the glass bottle was grass. At least that’s what I like to think. Meyer Dairy is two miles from my house and they still bottle and sell their milk to the community, a dying breed of dairy farmers not shipping their milk to a cooperative or factory in return for a milk check. The simple pleasure of drinking fresh, local milk, hides the hard work and complication of daily production.
Seeing the bottle in my GIVI topcase has me wondering how long they’ll last. Or my Vespa scooter. Or me.
For now I’l enjoy the little rides I can take, a simple pleasure purchased with the effort I make to choose the scooter over the car.
simple pleasures are born the best moments …in french (des plaisirs simples naissent les meilleurs moments…)
Absolutely!
Simple pleasures, like you write, can happen anywhere if one notices….but one does have to slow down and a. Notice. B. Be aware.
First off, I’m seriously happy to hear you’re making decent progress with your back, including the ability to ride more!
I’ve mentioned it before, but my one incident from long, long ago made me much more aware -happily aware – of the sweet stuff to be gleaned in the everyday. As I’m tapping this out on my phone, the bedroom is bathed in warm sunlight, and the cat is snoozing next to me, curiously using my laptop for a pillow (hence my using the phone now…didn’t want to disturb her). This is a rare day, starting off gently after a decent night’s sleep, mostly filled with stuff I want to do, rather than what needs doing – wash down the Vespa (though I kinda-sorta promised I’d wash down Sig. Other’s car as well), ride over to catch a vintage British car show & Concours event a few towns over, maybe hit the boardwalk for an hour or two. Fun stuff – that happens, too!
And, while on the subject of traveling, I had one Big Thing happen two days ago that sweetened the whole week: Early Wednesday morning, after riding 35 miles to get there, and in spite of arriving nearly an hour late (got lost), breaking the frame of my eyeglasses (since fixed), and dealing with the same person who gave me a failing grade last time out, I took my MC road test a second time…and passed. A few hours later I walked into my local MVC facility with all my paperwork, and emerged back into the late-summer sunlight, MC license in-hand. You almost could’ve run over my foot with yourVespa and not put me in a foul mood.
Now…when’s that next moto-hang again? 🙂
“it’s a simple pleasure that requires only an investment of time on my part. Time that, in almost every case, returns far more value than the cost of admission.”
As I’ve grown older, this simple statement has become much more relevant. It has been far too easy in my past to get tied up with projects, career, etc. that “requires only and investment of my time” but became much more an anchor that prevents me from doing something else that “returns far more value”. Case-in-point: I need to continue work on a bedroom renovation (complete gut/rehab) rather than go to a local art festival because 36 years ago we bought a 1930’s house that “just needed a little work”. Years ago I had a conversation with a friend who was involved with wholesale plumbing contracting. He told me that there was tremendous residential building going on in the Reading, PA area. I asked, “What’s going on in Reading that is drawing people to that area?” He said, “People were moving there from Northern New Jersey to build grand country homes for their families. They would drive back to New Jersey, take the train into New York and return every weekday – about 4 or more hours commute each way.” So my advice for all the young professionals in my live is – value your time. You can’t save it or give it to someone else. And you will do something with it regardless – make sure it returns value.
Hi Steve: I’m glad that you are back in the saddle. If there is anything good to be gained from adversity, it reminds us that there are many simple pleasures we take for granted when things are good.
Your photo of the glass milk bottle reminded me of my childhood in the 1960s, when there was a milkbox on our front porch and the milkman drove into the yard every couple of days and filled it with glass bottles of milk, sealed with little paper caps. It was always a race to get the milk out of the box in the middle of a Maine winter, before it could freeze — although my little brother and I always enjoyed crunching up the milk ice if we got to it a bit too late! Thanks for the great memories, and glad to hear that your back is on the mend!
We had the same milkbox on our front store when I was growing up. I remember the sheer joy of stopping the milk truck and buying a quart of chocolate milk! That was living large for a kid.
Well put Steve and great photos! My simple pleasure today was a short ride of maybe 30 minutes. Just some back roads near my house, houses quietly going by in a blur. Once in awhile I would ride past a lawn just mowed and the smell just filled my helmet and heart. An amazing respite from the chores of a Saturday.
I love riding and noticing the different smells. Cut grass, hay, trees and flowers in bloom. Just amazing. Never notice that stuff while I’m driving a car. Riding is, as you say, an amazing respite…
Clean living and simple pure thoughts?
Yep, maybe, perhaps.
Thing is, “they” all have to come together “just so!”
Otherwise all for naught.
I try to accept whatever comes along and avoid the “just so” stuff. I end up disappointed if I expect things to work out a certain way. Can’t always get my head to that place but it remains a worthwhile goal for me.
The way things are going, they may just start growing, grass. Maybe even in PA, who can tell.
I think Pennsylvania is still a long ways off from being a grow state. But like you say — who can tell.