Thursday, September 3, 2009

Thursday: Writing

Not only is she my trusty steed, carrying me nobly though the urban jungle, she is my traveling companion, with whom I share every detail of my being - every hill conquered, every personal best achieved, every ego-bruising crash.

As I sit on the floor of the crowded rush hour Metro car, I hold my pink bicycle before me and peer through her frame at those around me.

I am a tired warrior after a long, hot day, and she will shield me, defend me, and save me, should I need it.

There is nothing in the world quite like the bond between a rider and her bicycle.
Writing September 1st 2009

3 comments:

Ratso Radzo said...

I'm just leaving a comment because no one else seems to.... cool pics.

Alice Strong said...

Don't judge me 'cause I'm pink...lol!

Anonymous said...

"There is nothing in the world quite like the bond between a rider and her bicycle."

Actually, thee are three "bonds" - the saddle and the two pedals. But seriously, you are right. After riding miles after miles on your bike you begin to feel as one with it. I look at my bikes and I think of all the adventures I've had while riding them. All of the sudden, these inanimate objects come alive. I like these lyrics from Simon and Garfunkel:

"Coming home after school
Flying my bike past the gates
Of the factories"

That's the feeling - flying my bike.

Keep up the good writing!

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