Archive for August 26th, 2009

This morning I biked to school in the semi-dark. A meeting on campus at 7am sharp meant the front door clicked behind me at 6:22, as I walked to the garage to get my bike out, and sped off into the dark. I went quickly along the streets of my neighborhood, realizing a car would not be likely to see me. The greenbelt I ride through was peaceful, and the night air hung about like a mobile, slowly being lifted out of a cradle. This sure beats biking at three in the afternoon, I thought.

As the bike path curved into a wooded area, past the duck pond and before Tanglewood, the cool air – probably the coolest of the whole day – spun past me. The usual heat that hangs around me like Horace’s bore was absent. I passed back into a residential area, and quickly learned to keep my mouth shut, as bands of gnats flew through the air unseen. As I reached one of those abysmally steep hills near TCU, and got off my bike to walk it up, I had my doubts. Few cars were out, in fact there was hardly anyone. I panted as I reached the top of the second rise, and there it was all worth it: at the crest of the hill, I was graced with a beautiful view of the sky: dark blue to teal to off white, then back into pink at the horizon, a peach color similar to the color of crayon I used to use to color skin in pictures as a child. Clouds made rounded shapes against the colors.

The total absence of people changed as I neared the campus; the miles-long path winding around the outside of the gates was filled with runners and walkers and dogs. The light seemed to fade for a moment – I looked up at the streetlights, now dying embers braced against the sky.

As I entered campus, I made a mental list: bike light, so I am not as a ghost flying through the streets. A bike basket, so next time I carry my Psychology text to school I don’t show up looking like the Hunchback of Notre Dame. Clips, so I don’t ruin my other pair of good jeans on the gear wheel. And, a camera, so next time I can stop at the crest of the hill, and share the sky, coming alive, with  you.