Deborah Burow Art

Missing my tent...

deborah burowComment
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Each morning I still poke my head out the door to see if it's a good day to ride. And camp. As my brother says, "Any day is a good day if spent on a bicycle."

I'd have to agree.  

I, however, still work most days and he is retired. Big difference. But after being on the road for over 3 weeks, it's like an addiction. Hard to walk away and go sit at my desk. Yesterday my Fitbit said I walked ONLY 2369 steps!! Cuz I sat at my paint table all day and worked on art for a client. The art turned out fine, but 2369 steps??? And there is also this craving for ice cream that doesn't just stop now that I'm home. 

So early this morning I hopped on my bike for a couple hours before my work-a-day world began. It was FOGGY. Really foggy. Like coat-my-glasses-with-mist-before-I-get-to-the-first-corner foggy. Still that was not stopping me.  

Camera in my bike bag, I set out to see things I might usually ride right by. This morning I LOOKED among the ordinary. 

  Pink, blue, purple asters and yellow buttercups. The colors pop in the gray mist. Grape vines climb in neat clipped, fenced rows of "grape trees". I see these things all the time, but today I'm taking their picture. Smile.    Gold finches, turtle doves, red-winged black birds, some blue-all-over bird, gulls, and ospreys flying through the mist. One turtle trying to make it to the other side, though I see many others crushed by careless cars and trucks. Makes me wince every time.    Others riders, exactly five, are out on their bikes, also. Bike lights glow brilliantly white on the front, and blinking reds on the back. Will cars really see me? I can barely see the cars with their brights on.

Pink, blue, purple asters and yellow buttercups. The colors pop in the gray mist. Grape vines climb in neat clipped, fenced rows of "grape trees". I see these things all the time, but today I'm taking their picture. Smile.

Gold finches, turtle doves, red-winged black birds, some blue-all-over bird, gulls, and ospreys flying through the mist. One turtle trying to make it to the other side, though I see many others crushed by careless cars and trucks. Makes me wince every time.

Others riders, exactly five, are out on their bikes, also. Bike lights glow brilliantly white on the front, and blinking reds on the back. Will cars really see me? I can barely see the cars with their brights on.

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A fisherman, tucked between the rocks and the bridge, buried in the fog, waits quietly. 

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A lone kayaker. A lone sea gull. Will other boats see her? Says she will stay close to the shore line. 

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Peering at the foggy bridge I weigh my chances of getting across safely. Will cars see my tiny blinking red light? There is no shoulder... it's not too long...I can ride a lot faster than I could 3 weeks ago...I really want to continue my ride...just go for it!

On the other side the fog is so thick, I can't see through my glasses. So I push them down on my face so I can see over the tops of them with my blurry vision. It's still better than the fog on my glasses. Crazy. 

Another bridge up ahead. No shoulder and thicker fog. I'll pass. Time to head back.   

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I had hoped the ospreys would be back on their nest as I rode by. 2 heads popped up but as soon as I tried to get near enough to get the photo they took to the air dive bombing me to get me way from their nest. Good parents. I'll be on my way.  

I managed to get myself caught between a big black pickup truck and the curb as I avoided a drain pipe grate as I waited for a traffic light. I was lying stuck against the truck and my foot was caught in my quick release clip that would not release and I couldn't get myself upright on my bike. For what seemed like forever I was immobile!! Fortunately it was a long light and I somehow managed to free myself. AwkWard!!!! All my new found confidence of improved bike riding slithered down that drain grate and I hope I never see the driver of that truck again!

Thanks for tagging along.  

Blogging may be part of my therapy to join the real world again. Or maybe I should just get my tent out now and again.