Bike Ride Observations

Linden, my bike. Named after the street I lived on, as a child, in Brookline, MA.

I’m a bicyclist.  I began riding again, about 7 years ago, after not owning a bike since high school.  I became addicted quickly.  It is one of the few things recommended for my wonky knee, because biking is non-weight bearing.  I love nothing more than riding along the Bras d’Or Lake, early in the morning, listening to the birds sing, watching the cloud formations, being attentive to wildlife and viewing the water along most of my ride.  I’ve had close encounters with rabbits and deer, from time to time.  I’ve had a tern hit me in the chest.  For the most part I’m given 3′ by drivers of motor vehicles.   The worst encounter was with a motorcyclist who crowded me until I was nearly in the ditch.

Terns

One of the best parts of riding is that I often pass by the MacDougall property, my Dad’s birthplace and where he grew up.  I always think of him when I ride by.  The present owners are the MacLachlan’s, who are beautiful people.

The home my Dad was born and brought up in. I ride by it often.

I have a Trek road bike, which I named Linden, after the street I lived on as a child, in Brookline, MA.  Last week, as I returned home from a 15km ride, and as I was coming up my driveway, my chain broke.  At first I thought it just slipped off, but when I looked it was nowhere to be seen.  It was about 6′ behind me.  Oh dear.  I booked an appointment with a bike shop to have it repaired.  I was then without my bike for almost a week.  I was lost, even though I have a recumbent bike in the basement, but it just isn’t the same.  The scenery never changes.  It’s all good now and Linden is back home, but the weather wasn’t co-operative today, so I’ve not been out on it yet.

This past week, I was reminded of this poem I wrote a few years ago.  No offence to Harley owners.  This has also happened with loud trucks as well.

Bike Ride Observations

Seagulls soar

Eagles perch

In a tree, high above.

Ducks float

On a ripple-less inland sea.

A deer hustles

Through the woods.

A gentle breeze, rustling of leaves

Songbirds sing

Melodic music to my ears.

Foxglove, Mallow

Morning Glory, Daisies

Sweet Peas, Clover

Wild Roses

Mixed sweet scents filling my nostrils.

Purple thistles

Remind me of my ancestors

A simpler way

Their home, Scotland

A land I long to see.

Peaceful, serene

Pristine, a dream

Until…..

A poisonous, obnoxious Harley

Awakens me, from an otherwise perfect ride.

View from the hill at Katherine Farm

Scotch Thistle

Wild Roses

Variegated Weigela

Lupine

Lupine

Heather