Went out after the rain yesterday. I know I could have ridden one of my fendered (Is there such a word?) bikes, but getting wet or dirty wasn't my concern. The rain was a cold, rather dreary, one, and I simply didn't feel like starting a ride in it.
The rest of the day was overcast, mostly. But the cloud cover, and the air generally, were most definitely those of November. Gone are most of the leaves; most of the trees (except, of course, for the evergreens, of which we don't have many in this area) are bare. Thus, the colors of the day do not blaze from foliage; rather, they are suffused with light that is growing dimmer.
October, with its fall foliage, which I love as much as anyone does, dazzles the senses. Somehow I feel November, with its more austere shapes and hues, sharpens those senses. At least, that's how I feel when I ride during this month.
And Tosca, my Mercian fixed-gear, sharpens me as a rider, I believe. Her responsiveness makes me more responsive to my conditions--and rewards me with an exhilarating but still comfortable ride.
There was another reward, as I looked to the west from the Gil Hodges Memorial Bridge: