![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5r5x9dXR4Ur6SfjbHmSdcgPYysa9vIasZpMj6ycfx0wuUodVv6K-yfalNJJFoZ6NOm75_FRhbZJEwR7ZBzz3LKTwQ6Ng5Vmw2xa5gfGqMLT8tC8rKQ8cKlnQua-MRm9uplvsl/s320/SAM_3474.jpg)
While it was easy access last week, this week is different. I survey the terrain, carry and walk my bicycle, then double back. It's a balancing act, clambering past a fallen tree in tall grass.
I spy a trail beside a road and head up. A jogger looks at me. I pass a tree: someone has placed a pot of water in front of it (does a tree have a front?) and white cloth around it. Then, I hear furious barking. OK, I hear you, I'm out of here!
Then, to the medical park. It's so quiet, the road sweeper leaves her chest-high, four-wheeled outdoor garbage container half-blocking the road as she sits by the kerb to rest.
Barely two hours later, I'm back home. Such a short distance! But I did push myself hard sometimes. I can feel the burn in my legs somewhat. There are, after all, no traffic lights at all on this stretch and some (short) slopes.
No comments:
Post a Comment