What We Won’t Know
All of us went up that hard trail, saw the world from an alpine bowl that held marmots and pikas and watermelon snow. We didn’t ask each other’s stories nor did we tell our own.
Up and Down and Found
“Fire in the hole,” came a child’s gleeful voice as she held the remote control launch device in her hand and watched the pad holding her rocket intently.
Be Carried, My Dear
There are so many times when I would like to be carried. When I would like to stare as though I was a child, be loose and give myself over to being moved.
Already Ridden It
Maybe that's the most beautiful thing about having "already ridden it". That it frees you up to see the unexpected things that happen rather than gripping the handlebars so tight and memorizing the tread on your front tire.