Whatever we can do about climate change, there isn't a whole lot we can do about the weather.
At least, that's what I told myself when I went for a ride today.
I talked to my mother this morning. She and my father were bracing for Hurricane Matthew. They'd done what they can, she told me, and they couldn't do much more.
I'm sure she knew I was feeling anxiety--and a bit of guilt. After all, in my part of the world, we had one of those perfectly gorgeous October days you see in Fall Foliage Tour ads. And I didn't have to go to work. So, of course, I was just itching to go on a ride.
I offered to help my mother and father. She reminded me that, really, there was nothing I could do because I have no way of getting to them. Even if I had a drivers' license, I probably couldn't have driven there. Also, there were no flights into the area. I think even Amtrak suspended service to the area.
So I went on a bike ride--to Connecticut, again. I mean, where else would I ride on a day like today--unless, of course, I were going to take a trip to Vermont or Maine or Canada or the Adirondacks: places where the foliage is already in bloom. I have no such plans for this weekend.
Naturally, I rode Arielle, my Mercian Audax, and thoroughly enjoyed it. The temperature was just right (a high of about 21C or 70F) and the wind blew out of the east and northeast, which meant that I was pedaling into it up to Greenwich and sailed my way back.
Although we don't yet have the blaze of colors one would see right about now in the other places I mentioned, there are subtle changes in color--and, more important in the tone, texture and other qualities of light that signal that fall is well under way.
Just as I was about to cross the Randalls Island Connector--about 20 minutes from home--my mother called. The worst of the storm had passed: the rain had stopped and the wind wasn't much stronger than it is on a typical day. She and Dad were OK. They had no electricity, they said, but aside from a few small tree limbs and other debris in their yard, they suffered no damage.
After I got home, I fed Max and Marlee. Then I wiped my bike down, and fed myself. Mother wouldn't have told me to do otherwise.
At least, that's what I told myself when I went for a ride today.
I talked to my mother this morning. She and my father were bracing for Hurricane Matthew. They'd done what they can, she told me, and they couldn't do much more.
I'm sure she knew I was feeling anxiety--and a bit of guilt. After all, in my part of the world, we had one of those perfectly gorgeous October days you see in Fall Foliage Tour ads. And I didn't have to go to work. So, of course, I was just itching to go on a ride.
I offered to help my mother and father. She reminded me that, really, there was nothing I could do because I have no way of getting to them. Even if I had a drivers' license, I probably couldn't have driven there. Also, there were no flights into the area. I think even Amtrak suspended service to the area.
So I went on a bike ride--to Connecticut, again. I mean, where else would I ride on a day like today--unless, of course, I were going to take a trip to Vermont or Maine or Canada or the Adirondacks: places where the foliage is already in bloom. I have no such plans for this weekend.
Naturally, I rode Arielle, my Mercian Audax, and thoroughly enjoyed it. The temperature was just right (a high of about 21C or 70F) and the wind blew out of the east and northeast, which meant that I was pedaling into it up to Greenwich and sailed my way back.
Although we don't yet have the blaze of colors one would see right about now in the other places I mentioned, there are subtle changes in color--and, more important in the tone, texture and other qualities of light that signal that fall is well under way.
Just as I was about to cross the Randalls Island Connector--about 20 minutes from home--my mother called. The worst of the storm had passed: the rain had stopped and the wind wasn't much stronger than it is on a typical day. She and Dad were OK. They had no electricity, they said, but aside from a few small tree limbs and other debris in their yard, they suffered no damage.
After I got home, I fed Max and Marlee. Then I wiped my bike down, and fed myself. Mother wouldn't have told me to do otherwise.
