Sometimes when I'm riding the "I" I have expended so my energy manufacturing and protecting goes missing. At these times there is no longer a world out there and no longer a me in here trying to make sense of it. All there is, is the ride. Does this happen every ride? No. But even when it doesn't happen something akin to it does. Riding allows my mind to open wide, to drink in the sights, the smells, the sensations, and the passing wonders usually hidden in plain sight. Some days my commutes are the only live color in a world of grays, browns, and whites. Other days, my commutes are the proverbial frosting on the cake. And, then there are those occasional days when a commute is transformed into "the ride".
Tonight on the ride home I passed a woman on a scooter. Our schedules must be somewhat similar. I often see her in the morning or the evening and once in a while both. I had just experienced one of those serendipity moments of being aware of a situation a driver was attempting to create before it could become a situation. It was one of those moments when "the ride" took care of me or my care for riding well took care of me. It was shortly after this experience I passed the woman on the scooter. In that moment I was very aware of the pulsing joy of life all around. She waved. I waved back. Perfect.
- 70F/21C with a few clouds for the ride to work.
- 95F/35C with plenty of sunshine for the home ride.