Asked & Answered
On my first mountain bike ride of the year in Southern Utah – a spectacular place to ride by any account - I wrecked.
It started swimmingly, smooth path, sagebrush abounding, red rocks in the middle distance, rain sheeting over the granite peaks far away - absolutely picturesque. It was me, the lizards, and a whole lot of quiet.
Restoration in Progress
The city began to fade just a touch. Birds became a little louder. Restoration, it turned out, was in progress.
To the End
The faltering ones – with pinched eyes and grimacing mouths – made me pick up the chant. “All the way,” I found myself repeating.
Separate, Separate
We all stand on that line - the marker between what we were and what we will be. Heads swiveling to either side, wondering whether to pull ourselves apart or be pushed.