Oh, dear. It's gray again. But yesterday — on that last lovely day of such a nice long stretch of sunny spring-like days — I dug my bicycle out of the basement and took a ride. It was a bit of a project (pumping up the tires, finding my helmet, failing to find my gloves), but I finally got going. And it was great to see some of the familiar sights I'd forgotten ... sort of, temporarily.
Ocean Drive was in rough shape on the outer reaches but still breathtaking (especially because there's still a March nip in the air). I even found a lost glove by the side of the road and thought about picking it up, as my hands were cold (I'd failed to find my gloves, remember??). But the poor glove looked rather tortured — and it wasn't mine — so I satisfied myself with the reminder that warmth was imminent ... warmth of all kinds (manual, seasonal, familial), as my/our daughter is coming home from college for spring break tomorrow.
Meanwhile, it's rather nice (in a way, isn't it??) when the leaves are off the trees, allowing clearer views and different angles on such things as Hammersmith Farm (where Jackie O. spent summers) and the Eisenhower House (where Ike spent summers), and of course the fuzzy belted cows (a.k.a. Oreo cows) calmly munching in the field ...
Honestly, it was all I could do not to get off my bike every five minutes and fixate on something-or-other — a little girl in pink flying a kite, someone else enjoying the company of a dog (or two) — but I forced myself to keep pedaling ...
