For years and years, I’ve started
off Sunday with the newspaper and a cup of coffee, followed by the Today
weekend show, the CBS Sunday Morning 90 minutes. Only vacations or conferences
kept me from this Sunday routine.
But today I woke, had a breakfast bar,
2- bottles of water, put a load of laundry in and it was 8:30. This is my usual
time for a ride.
So I put the puppy on her sofa,
cleaned up the litter box, and roamed into the cool morning air.
Less traffic because of the
earlier time, I enjoyed the smooth easy pace. Pass a couple of early morning
cyclist who wave and smile. Cyclists seem to have a gentile wave of
acknowledging each other in passing.
The hill up to Libbie wasn’t too
bad and the glide down to Patterson wasn’t too swift. My mind still had not
kicked in. I was in automatic drive.
An old rusty brown Ford station
wagon filled with “stuff” and writing on the side passes me then pulls to the
side. I slowly come up to the driver’s window noticing him looking in the side
mirror at me. He leaned out the window and I stopped. I didn’t recognize his
face as he said, “So you are wearing a helmet now?” I tapped the black plastic
with my gloved hand and replied, “ Yes, at least in the mornings.” There was a
pause and I check back down the street for traffic. He smiled and gestured for
me to ride on. “I thought you were my brother.” I rode on and he sputtered down
the avenue.
At the Malvern stoplight, I
started waking my mind. I noticed my old house had a new red door and storm
door, but the rest looked the same as the 30 years ago I’d lived there.
The music that filled my head was
“the Archie’s” probably because I just made a 60’s CD for Joel. Catchy tune
that luckily I could quickly forget.
Next to the Robin Inn, I stopped
for water and to let trucks go by. The board out front said “Chicken Stroganoff
and salad $8.00” I don’t know if that is a good price or not. I don’t get out
much. All I remember about the Robin Inn was coming there as a teenage usher at
First Baptist Church between services and having a beer.
Stopping by the Kuba-Kuba coffee
shop and realized why I take these rides every morning, no matter how routine.
I looked across the street at the triangle park. Normally on my Sunday ride it
is full of mothers and children playing, but due to the early hour, the park
was vacant. Then I looked up to see the birch trees waving in the cool breeze.
That is what I suppose to see this morning. That dancing tree clicked my mind
on.
Around the corner and back again.
People walking in the middle of the street, pass Fox school getting an
addition, up to the closed museum, watching the car without the blinker turn as
I had expected.
I was aware of my surroundings and
the sounds and sights lit up before me.
Even the climb up the hill to Malvern
was not as difficult.
Back home passing another couple
starting off their Sunday ride and smiling.
And I had time to watch the Walter
Cronkite session of Sunday Morning, though I think I liked the turtles the
best. Taken it slow.
2 comments:
I enjoyed reading your blogs this evening and wanted to thank you. It was funny that both of us have a similar routine on Sunday mornings and that today even I changed my routine for a walk about.
Bending, breaking, whatever! -- you just keep on keeping on, you rebel!
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