The past weekend was, by almost anybody's definition, a perfect summer weekend for bike riding: clear skies, low-to-moderate humidity and high temperatures of 27-29C (81 to 85F). So, of course, I took advantage of it.
How could it have been any better? Well, on both days I managed to ride into the wind most of the way out and with the wind most of the way home. People were out and about, but the places where people congregate weren't terribly crowded.
On Saturday, I pedaled up to Greenwich, Connecticut and took a "pit stop" in the Common, in the center of town, where a family and their dog greeted me. I didn't take any photos, in part because there was nothing really new about the ride, but more interestingly, because I felt so much as if I were riding in, and enjoying the moment--some might call it a "zen" ride--that I didn't want to do anything else but pedal and take in what my senses, opened from pedaling and simply being immersed in the moment, offered me.
Yesterday was much the same, except that I took another familiar ride, to Point Lookout. There were a few small differences from my normal trek, as Beech Street in Long Beach was closed off for some sort of fair or festival. After I zigged and zagged for a few blocks, I found a one-way residential street--Walnut--where I saw no traffic all the way to the west entrance of Nickerson Beach--a couple of miles of riding bliss, by my reckoning.
At Point Lookout, I saw a "creature." At least, that's what it looked like from the corner of my eye.
Could the young woman sitting on the edge of the surface have been unaware of that "monster" creeping toward her? Or was she in denial?
Or, perhaps, she was just enjoying the moment, too.
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