Morning observations rarely register
as we wake and wander our way
through infant hours.
It takes a moment for
the mind to come alive while
the gravity of the day settles in.
We fail to notice little things,
considerably more substantial days ago,
perhaps once meaningful or spiritual,
now displaced as the second hand
of the wristwatch sweeps onward.
Afford yourself opportunity
to be distracted by butterflies, soon
a scent of lilacs, freesia, even the taste of
spring rain or requisite morning coffee.
In days so rent with common
occurrences, look beyond
what is there.
05/02/2024 j.g.l.
Mondays are just young Fridays
It’s interesting how quickly some things come back to you.
Yesterday, with the warmth and sunshine we’ve been denied finally gracing our city streets, I took the time to dust off my bicycle.
I pumped up the tires, oiled the chain, wiped down the seat and the frame, and donned my helmet (a cyclist with a helmet has a good head on his shoulders), and set out for a ride with no destination in mind, but with a purpose firmly in place.
As I began rolling, I pumped the brakes and then shifted gears to both check the equipment and gain momentum. I reminded myself that speed was not as important as safety. I watched for traffic as I turned into the bike lane and began to pedal through the city’s downtown.
An hour later, it seemed I wasn’t event thinking about the individual actions required to propel my bike down the street, or shift gears to slow down for the next traffic light or make my way up an incline.
It felt like the bike was an essential part of my anatomy.
After months without even thinking about a lane change, even my hand signals to motorists and fellow cyclists came back to me naturally, as some things do…like riding a bike.
05/16/2021 j.g.l.