Wings
On my own. From home. Climb. Pedal thru discomfort. My own pace. A red-tailed hawk gave a long call. I kept going.
Eventually, a sense the road flattened out ahead of me. Never happened before. No anxiety. No gripping the breaks. A level descent.
I was flying. Visually gliding. I didn't anticipate it, nor hope for anything different than my usual caution.
 |
| Downtown Oakland, Bay Bridge and SF, Marin |
No comments:
Post a Comment