Exposure: Week Forty

A picture 
that is symbolic 
of your childhood.

A girl.

A bike.

A tree.

A book.

Am I missing anything important?

Didn't think so.

 

When the spirits are low,
when the day appears dark,
when work becomes monotonous,
when hope hardly seems worth having,
just mount a bicycle and go out for a spin down the road,
without thought on anything but the ride you are taking.
~ Sir Arthur Conan Doyle

I remember . . .

. . . riding three or more on a bike like amateur circus acts.

. . . trading the hot pink banana seat for the coveted green ten-speed. *closing eyes with a sigh*

. . . steering with just a slight shift of weight -- oh, how often does one feel like an inanimate object is an extension of the body?

. . . trying to beat my personal best of nearly fifty times around the block with no hands when, suddenly, I swallowed a bug and grabbed the handlebars without thinking. ;-(

. . . flying down a gravel drive and feeling grand just before losing control of the bike in the loose rocks, hitting a hollow tree stump, vaulting over the handlebars, and landing head-first inside the stump. ;-/

. . . trading the green Schwinn for the blue Mazda -- end of childhood.

~ End Quote