Sunday, March 11, 2012
When feeling gets too hard, at least I can ride. The rain stops, my ride starts. I drop by the old Bottle Tree Village; I've read the restaurant is closed and the people gone. The huge bottle tree is gone too - all that's left is a huge circular patch of churned earth where the tree once stood.
Once, the ceiling fans whirled to create a breeze. Now, the fans whirl in the breeze that blows in from the coast. Some day soon, this place will be flattened. What will appear in its place: flats?