(no subject)

My love affair with my bike continues. Yesterday evening, I went up the Minuteman Trail to Arlington Center, and my world grew again a little. A cygnet, grooming its stubs of future wings; its parents nearby, majestic, wary. One man on a pyramidal frame with small wheels, upright, shifting side-to-side and propelling himself somehow forward. Watching the sun set over Spy Pond, then a model airplane looping over Thorndike Field in the last pinks and deep blues of dusklight.

Of course, there was also the panicked part where my chain came off the front derailleur(?) in the middle of a wide intersection - and the bike store at that intersection had closed half an hour earlier. But I eventually fixed it all by myself :) then decided I still wanted to keep going, so I stopped by noghri's to refill my water bottle and degrease my hands with real soap. ;P

( posted elsejournal to a friend having trouble with a boy and his promises to change, aka, how I may be slowly crafting an identity as a cyclist and therefore an athlete, what? )

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( unpopular boom de yada opinion, cf nostalgia and summer )