Yesterday was a wild day.
It is only because it was so wild that I didn't get to writing about it until now. I could not get enough sleep today. After hardly bicycling at all this week, I bicycled some 25 miles, with a grueling climb near the end of it all. I had quite an adventure! I traveled across the Ashley River to go hunting for a book at a library, and then went shopping at the front of a health store. Afterwards, I took my shopping bag to the back of the store and got some free on-expiration date items, in broad daylight!! After riding away and going down the bicycle path, I passed a small free farm (yes, free fresh food), and got some peppers and eggplant. I couldn't believe how perfect the afternoon was. Hippie paradise. The ride home was something else. I got walking on these railroad tracks that cross the Ashley River. I walked and walked and walked (and carrying a bicycle with you while doing so is no fun). When I finally got to the bridge, the neighborly night watchman called out, you better keep walking, train's coming, that trains going 79 miles an hour. I passed and paused for a moment. It was still warm out. I drank my newly-acquired cream amidst the moonlight on the marsh.
It is only because it was so wild that I didn't get to writing about it until now. I could not get enough sleep today. After hardly bicycling at all this week, I bicycled some 25 miles, with a grueling climb near the end of it all. I had quite an adventure! I traveled across the Ashley River to go hunting for a book at a library, and then went shopping at the front of a health store. Afterwards, I took my shopping bag to the back of the store and got some free on-expiration date items, in broad daylight!! After riding away and going down the bicycle path, I passed a small free farm (yes, free fresh food), and got some peppers and eggplant. I couldn't believe how perfect the afternoon was. Hippie paradise. The ride home was something else. I got walking on these railroad tracks that cross the Ashley River. I walked and walked and walked (and carrying a bicycle with you while doing so is no fun). When I finally got to the bridge, the neighborly night watchman called out, you better keep walking, train's coming, that trains going 79 miles an hour. I passed and paused for a moment. It was still warm out. I drank my newly-acquired cream amidst the moonlight on the marsh.
The closer I got to the switch yard, the more I got the night spooks. It came to the point where I had to exit the railway corridor and I climbed thru brush and was surprised to come across a ravine, just a small trickle of water. It was far more difficult with a bicycle. The uphill climb was crazy. I found myself grabbing and climbing over the plants just to get farther up. I paused and tried to relish in the dream-like beauty of it. The small elephant ear plants and carpeted greens were moist and gentle in my hands. They glistened in the orange-halogen glow of the church yard light. Even with the poetic pause, I missed how wonderful it was. I even feel guilty for trudging and climbing and ripping the plants just to get through. It was so untouched, and when I was in the bottom of the ravine, how I would have loved (looking back) to wrap myself in the soft blanket of greens and sleep like a child. It was all that was great about a mountain stream. I cannot miss an opportunity like that again.
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