Dying light, the gathering gloom descending on the ride home from work. Cold enough that my hands chill quickly when I handle the Canon G9 camera without gloves. I can’t quite get the camera to do what I want it to do with those thick winter Tourmaster gloves.
Stay just a bit late at work and the light disappears quickly, especially on an overcast day. Riding is bright. I find unexpected satisfaction in cutting through the grayness on a cold evening. Riding is an affirmation of living. It is a reminder of breath and sight and feeling. It’s so far from being behind the wheel I can’t begin to describe the experience.
One last stop on the way home to scramble up the concrete beneath the overpass. Standing with the camera I wonder if a passing police car will think “terrorist” as I photograph in my bumblebee riding suit. More likely “idiot”.
When I think of injuring myself during riding more often those thoughts arise as I am finding places to shoot a picture.
And on down the through the gathering gloom to home and hearth and a cup of tea. Or two.
That even looks cold. Enjoy the tea!
Steve:
a double BRRRR, looks cold. We are half way towards Spring. It is not always dark when we leave work
bob
Riding the Wet Coast
I love your enthusiasm, my bike is still parked for another month or two. But with each passing day the prospect of riding gets closer!
ToadMama: Cold but not oppressive. And tea always helps.
bobskoot: Some days when I realize it’s time to go home and I remember I have the Vespa it can be discouraging. It takes some additional effort to ride in the cold. So I have to get myself ready for those evenings…
bouls: Each of us gets to decide how and when we’ll ride. There is no right answer. And I bet there is something pretty good about anticipating riding again!