Yesterday was a wash, literally: the rain precluded any outdoor activity but the most essential errands and chores, and while we made do with fondue and movies, libations and conversations, records and games, even so I found myself at the end of the day a little restless, and hoping for a more outdoors-y tomorrow.
Something in the air this morning, then, some scent, maybe, or the quality of the light squeezing in around the sides of the blackout curtains, must have tipped me off, because I woke up hours before my alarm was set to go off, fully alert and raring to go. I knew, somehow, that today would be perfect for what I had in mind, and I felt like a kid at Christmas waiting for Katie to wake to tell her - today, we ride bikes.
Later, soaring over the East River as we crest the arch of the Manhattan Bridge on the way back into Brooklyn, my chest fills with a sigh of contentment, and I push the pedals a little harder to pick up speed, my muscles singing in praise of our efforts assisting gravity, and me, my bike, and my happiness together all fall from the sky like a hawk coming out of the sun.
One year ago: Good To Know
Two years ago: Hallucinate a Preacher
Three years ago: But Only Almost
Four years ago: Maybe I'm Not Ready to Quit My Addiction
Eight years ago: 5/14/09 - Until Blogger Gets Its Shit Together
Nine years ago: 5-14-08 Actually, That Was Me