It just figures: As soon as my by started functioning again, my computer stopped.
What that's meant is that the other day, I did my first 100K+ ride in more than a month. And I had near-prefect conditions for riding--but not for posting on this blog!
Anyway, it felt like my first fall ride. I know that it was, according to the calendar. But everything about the sea, sky and their light made it seem, in the most sensual ways, that the season had indeed changed.
The sky, though overcast, brought no real threat of rain. Rather, it spread like a quilt made of leaves grown sere if not heavy over a skin that has darkened as it remained translucent. Perhaps it is the reason why I felt comforted, but not tired, by the time I got to Point Lookout, even though I'd been pedaling into the wind and, as I mentioned, I hadn't taken a long (or even longish) ride in some time.
Riding home with the wind made me feel as if I were bringing the power of the muted and diffuse, though not dim, light the sea and sky spread with the new season.
What that's meant is that the other day, I did my first 100K+ ride in more than a month. And I had near-prefect conditions for riding--but not for posting on this blog!
Anyway, it felt like my first fall ride. I know that it was, according to the calendar. But everything about the sea, sky and their light made it seem, in the most sensual ways, that the season had indeed changed.
The sky, though overcast, brought no real threat of rain. Rather, it spread like a quilt made of leaves grown sere if not heavy over a skin that has darkened as it remained translucent. Perhaps it is the reason why I felt comforted, but not tired, by the time I got to Point Lookout, even though I'd been pedaling into the wind and, as I mentioned, I hadn't taken a long (or even longish) ride in some time.
Riding home with the wind made me feel as if I were bringing the power of the muted and diffuse, though not dim, light the sea and sky spread with the new season.
