We haven’t reached peak foliage in this part of the world. Still, there are plenty of vibrant, vivid colors flickering through leaves under a smoldering autumn sun. (It’s kind of odd, isn’t it, to use words like “vivid” and “vibrant” to describe leaves that are dying.) I feel as if I’d witnessed the entire season in this tree on Randall’s Island:
Red, orange, yellow, maroon and still some green. For the past couple of days, I’ve been taking rides, not to go any place in particular or to accumulate miles, but to fill myself with those hues and crisp autumn air. I’m
I guess that’s a perk of midlife: I can get on my bike for sensory experiences. I don’t need to justify what I’m doing or impress anybody. If my bike and body feel right, my ride will reward me. As it did today, and has so many days before.
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