Riding is kind of like art and life combined into one fluid activity. It feels like an expressive motion, driven by free will and the forces of nature, and carved into the landscape of commotion and calm. It is your signature left on the scene of life - the unique path your brush takes on the canvas of road and trees and traffic and turmoil - and it's unlike anything else I've ever done.
This morning is moody, and I feel the brooding sky just waiting to unfold again.
I park by the water's edge for a while, looking over one of the many lakes in this state and feeling the strange temperament of the day ahead. The darkening sky envelopes the morning sunrise, and a few sprinkles start down again. Although the water and wind are both calm right now, I can tell it's going to be a fight later to decide which of the weather systems above me are going to rule the day.
Big change is ahead. Big change.
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