The other day, a late-afternoon ride along familiar routes turned into more of a journey than I imagined it could be.
Along the Malcolm X Promenade (formerly the Flushing Bay Promenade), workers who didn't have a "break room" were doing the best they could to take a break from work much harder than mine:
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They were reclining by the water, in the way people can recline only when they're by the water. A few miles away, in Fort Totten, I saw upright structures in, and by, the water.
Nearby, in Crocheron Park, Golden Pond allowed me, for a moment, to pretend that I'm Monet.
I hope that the men I saw early in my ride got their well-deserved rest--and, just as important, the calm I felt seeing the sailboats in the bay and blooms in the pond.
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