Uncrossing Our Fingers: The Day After The Storm That Wasn't

Yesterday's radio (and, I assume, television) programming was interrupted or punctuated by updates on Hurricane Earl.  Forecasters expected it to be the biggest storm in nearly two decades:  the biggest since the "perfect storm" that inspired the eponymous book and movie.


For much of the day, it looked as if the storm would hit.  The sky was so heavy that it looked as if it could submerge everything beneath it without a single drop of rain falling.  And the air, it seemed, was even heavier, yet viscous, with heat and humidity.

But, in the end, more sweat dripped from people's skins than raindrops fell from the clouds.  Some time in the wee hours of morning, some of the wind from the storm blew the clouds away.  So, save for the difficulty of pedaling into the wind, today was a wonderful day to ride, walk or be outdoors for any other reason.  It was warm enough to wear a sundress or tank top and shorts, but the wind was brisk enough to open one's pores to the hind of chill that it brought.  


I took a very leisurely ride on my fixie (Is that a contradiction?) and basked in both sun and wind on a park bench. Tosca, my fixie, seemed to enjoy it as much as I did.  

The day after a storm, or just bracing for one, everything seems like a reverie.  Especially a bike ride.