Cycling In The Mist

Was I in London?

Or San Francisco?

Actually, I rode along the south shore of Queens and Brooklyn yesterday.  From Rockaway Beach to Fort Tilden, the fog was so thick that in some places I could see only three or four bicycle lengths ahead of me.

Still, more people strolled, cycled and scootered (Is that a verb?) along the boardwalks than I'd expected.  It was Sunday, after all, and fairly warm, with a brisk breeze from the southeast.

Perhaps even hardened cycnics were taken by the hazy romantic atmosphere.  You could be alone and feel it.  The odd thing is that I felt as if the dreaminess was making me pedal faster.  Perhaps there was less resistance--to feelings internal as well as things external.  Of course, I had to make myself slow down in a few places.  Nothing like running someone down, or being run down, to ruin the mood, right?

 

The fog started to clear, at least on land, after I started pedaling from Breezy Point to the bridge to Brooklyn.  But it lingered in the horizon, out to sea, which made for some oddly serene light.

There are some folks who will do whatever they do, whatever the weather.  I rather admire them.

The day will be lost to the mists of time.  But not what I, or anyone else, felt or remember.