Spring morning rides on the Vespa are electrifying.  A visual candy store of light and texture offers an available camera moments of photographic relaxation — images captured to reignite memories later.

Scooters have emerged from garaged cocoons as riding butterflies — simple, quiet, elegant machines of transport and joy.  Or so I see them.  Here as the sun neared the evening horizon I stood wondering who belonged to the other Vespas.

Ephemeral spring blossoms demonstrate the speed in which time passes. Organic reminders of the constant flow of life and the cycle of change. I don’t think of these things often — at times with a camera, on the scooter, or scratching out words on a page in my journal.

It’s been too nice not to ride at all so I make the most of rides to work and short errands around town. Feeling the Vespa respond to the throttle, the air rushing through my helmet, the world flowing by in a visual river of light and color — I can feel my heart beat and the thrill of being alive and in front of it all.

Yes, it’s too nice not to ride.

Last week thick with riding temptation.  Soaring temperatures, greening landscape, a rapid departure from winter.  I made this picture on the way home from work and recognizing the lengthening days and expanding windows to ride.  But first things first.

My Vespa is filthy and coated with the grime and grit of winter.  A responsible rider would tend to his machinery and perform all reasonable and required maintenance.  At least give the thing a bath.

Time for the Heidenau Snow Tex tires to come off as well.  No sense in wearing the soft, sticky, expensive rubber compound away on warm, dry roads.  The exhaust system should come off as well, be sandblasted and repainted.  And a few more mechanical feats should be undertaken.  First things first.

Our naturalized, woodland garden is coming to life and with it a wide array of trimming, transplanting, raking and digging.  I made a decision to do this work before any serious spring time rides.  And the house calls out for its share of attention as well.  First things first.

Junior the jungle dog peeks through the bamboo grove in our garden.  This running form of bamboo, Phyllostachys  aureosulcata, needs a close eye to keep it from taking over the world.  Spring time means some exploration with a shovel and removal of the aggressive runners.

And there is a lot more work to do.  So before any major Vespa adventures I need to tend to first things first…

$5.24.  That’s what I paid this morning to fill up the Vespa after 78 miles of back and forth to work — $4.159 per gallon for 1.259 gallons or premium fuel.  Stops at the gas pump can be satisfying experiences.

Tapping on my iPhone calculator (I’ve ceased doing math in my head) reveals fuel consumption at 62mpg.  That’s in the normal range for rides to work.  Slightly higher on trips.

A light rain was falling but the air was almost warm making for a pleasant ride.  Cost of that kind of ride — priceless…

I know, without a doubt, that my life would be more ordinary if my movement through the world was limited to the comfortable confines of a car.  A satisfied grin marked my face as I scrambled around in the gravel along a line of dumpsters. Looking out beyond the Vespa towards Tussey Ridge, sitting on the ground, I was happy.

When was the last time you sat on the ground by yourself?

At 57 years old I’m still curious and get excited by strange things I see. And maybe more excited that I actually see things.  And concerns for appearances and behavior are mostly in the past leaving me free to roll around on the ground in a yellow and black riding suit to take a picture regardless of who might see me.

Riding the Vespa changes things.  Changes what I see and do.  And for the better.  In a car, the commute to and from work is painfully ordinary, a trip from A to B on the shortest route, radio playing, mind wandering, arriving at a destination startled and wondering how I got there.

It’s almost never that way on the Vespa.  I always know what happened. While riding I’m a man in full possession of my senses of sight, sound, smell, touch and taste.  It’s good.  Life’s richer on a Vespa.

Even amidst a village of dumpsters.