The past two days have included bouts of rain. A deluge bore upon us just after I woke up this morning; after that, it seemed to rain every two hours or so.
This afternoon, I decided to do one of my "playing chicken with the rain" rides. I got on Tosca (She really seems to like those rides!) and dared the skies to spill their wrath on me.
After riding cirlicues of cul-de-sacs and alleys around La Guardia Airport and the World's Fair Marina, I pedaled up the incline from downtown Flushing to Bayside Avenue, which took me to the eponymous neighborhood--and one of my favorite cycling destinations in Queens:
Fort Totten, as I've mentioned in other posts, was built at the point where the East River (which separates Queens from Manhattan, the Bronx and Rikers Island) opens into the Long Island Sound. Some say that this is where Gatsby's "North Shore" begins.
It offers one of those "I don't believe I'm in New York City" views. The great thing about it is that it's as wonderful on a day like today as it is when the sun is shining and there isn't a cloud in the sky.
Some would call the light I saw today "subdued" or even "melancholy". I wouldn't disagree with either, and enjoy both aspects of it. In a way, it's rather soothing, even forgiving: It reminds me, just vaguely, of the light that illunminated many days (especially in the early spring or fall) I lived in Paris and some of the time I spent in Prague. Although it's a light you in which you can immerse yourself after long periods of difficulty, it is not merely soothing for it brings a lot of things into relief in a way that most people (I include myself) could never do on their own.
As for "playing chicken with the rain": I felt a few raindrops as I took the photo. And a few more whisked me as I rushed through Jackson Heights. But, at the end of the ride, most of the moisture on my skin was my own sweat: As you might expect, the day was very humid.
This afternoon, I decided to do one of my "playing chicken with the rain" rides. I got on Tosca (She really seems to like those rides!) and dared the skies to spill their wrath on me.
After riding cirlicues of cul-de-sacs and alleys around La Guardia Airport and the World's Fair Marina, I pedaled up the incline from downtown Flushing to Bayside Avenue, which took me to the eponymous neighborhood--and one of my favorite cycling destinations in Queens:
Fort Totten, as I've mentioned in other posts, was built at the point where the East River (which separates Queens from Manhattan, the Bronx and Rikers Island) opens into the Long Island Sound. Some say that this is where Gatsby's "North Shore" begins.
It offers one of those "I don't believe I'm in New York City" views. The great thing about it is that it's as wonderful on a day like today as it is when the sun is shining and there isn't a cloud in the sky.
Some would call the light I saw today "subdued" or even "melancholy". I wouldn't disagree with either, and enjoy both aspects of it. In a way, it's rather soothing, even forgiving: It reminds me, just vaguely, of the light that illunminated many days (especially in the early spring or fall) I lived in Paris and some of the time I spent in Prague. Although it's a light you in which you can immerse yourself after long periods of difficulty, it is not merely soothing for it brings a lot of things into relief in a way that most people (I include myself) could never do on their own.
As for "playing chicken with the rain": I felt a few raindrops as I took the photo. And a few more whisked me as I rushed through Jackson Heights. But, at the end of the ride, most of the moisture on my skin was my own sweat: As you might expect, the day was very humid.
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