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Thursday:

"Never forget," they say, and every year, the voices shouting that catchphrase get more and more shrill, as if we could forget what we saw, and who we worried for.

Seven years and one day ago, she wrote about seeing a rainbow from her office window near the top of the World Trade Center. Seven years ago, it was so bright out it hurt my eyes, and I couldn't believe that such horrible things could be happening on such a beautiful day.

I take a quick ride down to the river; it's grey and cool, and it helps.

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Tuesday

It rained for most of our trip to Vancouver last month, yet I spent three days out of four there riding around town on a rented bicycle. Pedaling around Stanley Park, hefting my bike onto the miniferry, getting lost in Upper Kits, losing track of time and having to pedal the fastest I've ever gone in order to get the bike back before the shop closed. Me, flying up the seawall, a steady drizzle trickling its way down my neck, joyful.

( Turns out this was good prep for my inaugural bike ride across the river into Boston proper. )

Friday

I want more of my days to be this full of magical discovery.

Biking up the Minuteman Trail to pick up a bridal shower present for melissaagray in Arlington Heights, my longest ride to date. Splashing through puddles, grateful for my fenders, even if I am thinking of spray-painting them to coordinate with my shiny blue thing. (Horrified at the man I followed from Park Ave down to Arlington Center; I now understand exactly what kind of wetness pattern bike fenders prevent on your clothing, and why it looks especially gross on a mustard-yellow shirt.)

Coasting down through Davis Square, dismounting to make the turn on Elm Street towards home, when I look up at the Somerville Theatre marquee and notice that ( Dar Williams and Shawn Mullins are playing that night. )

Saturday

Pedaling as fast as I can down the Mem Drive bike path towards Watertown. Quickchange into dress too delicate for that ride, then another hour in the car with fes42 out to the Wistah suburbs. Sitting in melissaagray's sister's living room, looking around at everyone who's come to fête her, realizing I've known most of these people for five years or more now. Biking back, a serendipitous turn down Mount Auburn results in me following my nose and the tempting scent of meat to Harvard Books and Bartley's; three used Tamora Pierce books, a chocolate egg cream, and a Sarah Palin (grilled onions and cheese sauce; sadly, not a mooseburger) make the trip home with me.

I've done three long rides this week, every one of them an adventure. Tonight, I'll bike down to BU for class again, and hopefully a quick dinner afterwards with a friend. Sunday, I'll go 10 miles at Hub on Wheels (any other locals wanna bike on Storrow Drive with me? and eat Redbones afterwards? :D ).

This is what life on two wheels is like.

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(I need a good biking icon. Where should I look?)