Today I did something I don't normally do: I rode Tosca to work. I had no particular reason; I didn't have much to carry today, so I thought it might be fun.
And I took a slightly different route home from the one I'd been taking. I had just passed through Flushing Meadow-Corona Park when I saw how I was going to ride the rest of the way (well, most of it, anyway) home:
It was enough to make me ride alongside the railroad tracks. The tracks are lined with, well, what one expects to see along railroad tracks: some warehouses and dirty, sad-looking dwellings facing the concrete barriers by the tracks. But even they, and the wires over the tracks, felt serene, bathed in the simmering orange light:
As you know, my bikes are very well-trained, so Tosca knew exactly what to do.
And, yes, by the time I got home, everything was just starting to turn to dusk. And Max, my dusty orange cat, greeted me.
And I took a slightly different route home from the one I'd been taking. I had just passed through Flushing Meadow-Corona Park when I saw how I was going to ride the rest of the way (well, most of it, anyway) home:
It was enough to make me ride alongside the railroad tracks. The tracks are lined with, well, what one expects to see along railroad tracks: some warehouses and dirty, sad-looking dwellings facing the concrete barriers by the tracks. But even they, and the wires over the tracks, felt serene, bathed in the simmering orange light:
As you know, my bikes are very well-trained, so Tosca knew exactly what to do.
And, yes, by the time I got home, everything was just starting to turn to dusk. And Max, my dusty orange cat, greeted me.