I giggled and sang with excitement tonight as I pushed my bike out of the garage. It was a gorgeous spring evening. The birds were singing, a gentle breeze blew, and the sun was lazy, low on the horizon. I sat on the seat and the bike just coasted right down the driveway and onto our street. I smiled. How could I not smile. I’d just given myself the gift of freedom!
There’s something completely liberating about riding a bike. Maybe it’s the wind blowing through my hair, or the way the tires seem to float across the asphalt. Could be the sights and sounds that whiz by as I pedal, slowly, quickly, then coast. The air smelled of flowers. I thought, ‘God must be doing laundry. I can smell the warm fragrant air from the dryer vent.’
One thing that I’ve discovered this week, purely by accident, is that I love wearing a dress when I ride. Maybe I did when I was a girl, I don’t remember…but this week I’ve been coming home from work, pulling off my sandals, and hopping on my bike in whatever little skirt or dress I happen to be wearing. There’s something timeless, and very girly about it…and I highly recommend it, at-least for girls…
I rode down to the end of our neighborhood and back up the hill effortlessly. Happy…..last summer it was a challenge, and I didn’t venture too far. My body is healthier. My muscles are stronger. It was a natural reminder of my progress. The magical combination of self care and God’s grace have brought me far.
Just before heading back down our street, I stopped to smell the yellow Jasmine, blooming on our neighbor’s mailbox. I just can’t pass by without stopping to smell. Tiny bursts of yellow that smell so amazing, I am completely compelled to stop and take a hit before I can go any further. I sometimes wonder whether my neighbors ever look out the window and see me standing at their mailbox by myself, or with my bike, or when I’m walking my dog. “Smell the Jasmine” I tell her. “It smells so beautiful!”
My body thanked me for the fresh air, the movement, the Jasmine, the birds song, and the early hues of sunset. My mind was full of peace and gratitude.
Ever heard of a Blog Trailer? Well, me neither, but I couldn’t think of a way to incorporate these two little stories, so I made up “Blog Trailer” so that I’d have a place for the extras.
Trailer #1:
It’s a great bike. If she had a name it would be Periwinkle…blue with handle-bars that are a little bit tall, and a white, bouncy seat. When we were riding on the Greenway last summer we stopped in at a Starbucks. As I pulled up, a gal who looked like she might have a bike named Harley, hollered out, “You got yourself a Cadillac, dontcha guurl!” My eyes must’ve been big as saucers. I think she liked my bike as much as I do.
Trailer #2:
The first night I rode this week…I realized the air was low in my tires. Of-course I couldn’t find our bike pump, since I haven’t used a pump in about 25 years. I grabbed a handful of quarters and headed for the corner store to the air pump. I rode happily in the grass beside the busy road and across the parking lot only to discover that the air pump had been removed. I frowned and slumped…then parked on the sidewalk in front of the door. When I went in, a small man with a big smile and an accent I couldn’t place, said “Howiz youre riede?” “What?” I asked. He repeated himself, this time raising his hands to show handlebars. “Oh, it’s great, but I need air in my tires!” Well, apparently some goof-balls have been breaking the air pump machine to steal the quarters, so they removed the pump. He told me I’d have to go across the street. I did, and I pumped my tires. It’s amazing how capable this simple task made me feel. I wondered whether people were wondering why a grown woman was pumping bike tires in a dress on a Monday evening, but I just felt so happy, I didn’t care. I peddled home easily, through my neighbor’s field where apple trees grow, and got home by way of my back yard. In my dress….I felt like a girl again.