. . . ride in the last light

. . .

It was Eldest’s first ride since her crash, her doctor having proclaimed her broken bone sufficiently “sticky” to hold itself together now and safe to resume her usual activities.  Behind me she kept exclaiming, It feels so good to be back on a bike. Oh, it’s so beautiful. 

I myself had felt the familiar surprise at the pleasure the wind brings brushing over my arms and legs — I was thinking as we rode home how glad, how good it is to have my life made up of beads of time like this one, how when I get old and sick in bed I hope I can relive these rides. . . .

[keep reading:  “little blisses“]

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