Somehow I get the feeling I might've better appreciated today's weather had I been English. Then again, upon realizing how much of the Empire consisted of warm climes, one could just as easily conclude that some English people weren't so crazy about their own meteorological conditions after all.
The day remained overcast. I thought I felt a few drops on my way home. I kept my fingers crossed: I received a very important document in the mail at my second job. And I was bringing it home in a tote bag with an open top that I carried in one of my bike baskets. Perhaps if the rain had gotten heavier, I could have stopped in some store and asked for a plastic bag.
But the sprinkle seemed to end not much after it started. While the sky didn't clear, I was treated to an interesting "sunset" as I pedaled through Flushing Meadow Park.
Now, even if you absolutely detest pink, how can you not love a cherry blossom "sunset?"
The past few days could teach anyone the meaning, if not the precise etymology (Oh, shit, did I just sound like a linguistics professor?) of the phrase "April showers."
Yesterday rain began to fall when I was a couple of blocks from my class. Today I woke up to tires hissing on slick pavement that was nearly dry by the time I rode to my first class. But, when I stepped outside between classes, a glaze of rain clung to the concrete and pavement like a honey drizzle on a baking ham. And, by the time I left for my other job, the streets were once again dry.
However, I could tell that the rain had gone in that direction and left just before I got to my other school by the fresh, dewy scent in the air, which was still pretty chilly. I haven't seen new flowers on either campus. But on my second job, I saw this sign of rain that passes over several times a day:
That's The Pinarello, which I saw for the first time since December. And the cycling colleague in my department also had a "shower cap" on her bike:
And, yes, I saw everything glistening with raindrops when I went outside after class. But, once again, I had just missed riding in the rain--or it missed me.
It looks like a real bike lane now.
Last week, I mentioned the construction I saw on the Queens side of the Edward Koch/Queensborough/59th Street Bridge. (At the rate it's going, the bridge'll have more names than God has in the Old Testament!) Well, I don't know whether they've finished it. But at least now the path is useful, and takes you to a practical destination.
More important, it doesn't force cyclists into this:
This is where the lane from the bridge used to end. Just beyond the orange barrels, 27th Street dead-ends under the elevated tracks of the #7 and N lines of the New York subways. Most of the traffic on 27th (which is one-way in the direction of the truck in the rear of the photo) merges onto the bridge ramp; a few vehicles turn right onto Queens Plaza North, where you see the black sedan. Sometimes those streets are completely full of vehicles, and their drivers aren't known for patience.
So, when a cyclist coming off the bridge can turn left onto the lane, which intersects with 23rd, 22nd and 21st Streets. All of them continue underneath the tracks. Or one can take 23rd in the other direction to go to Astoria. That street passes through an industrial area and the traffic on it is usually light. Twenty-Second is one-way in the opposite direction from 23rd, and 21st is a major artery that serves as part of the route for several bus lines.
I would love it if the path were extended to Vernon Boulevard, which skirts the Queens bank of the East River. That would offer cyclists relatively easy and safe access to PS 1, Socrates Sculpture Park and the Noguchi Museum, among other things.
One can always hope. For now, I'll suspend my cynicism and be grateful for something that's better than what we had.
