As Memorial Day drew to a close — and visitors with foreign (meaning other than RI) license plates hit the road — I hit the road, too. On my bike.
We'd done the usual stuff over the long weekend: a little beaching, a little boating, a little gardening. Actually, we did a lot of gardening, and have the dirty fingernails to show for it, but mainly we were just "around." So it seemed fitting to go "around the drive." Ocean Drive, that is. On my bike, that is. It was good exercise, but I didn't see anything ...
Correction: I saw things — including many signs of summer — just nothing I hadn't seen before. The kites at Brenton Point. The Del's truck. The fog rolling in, resulting in that weird sunny-yet-foggy condition that persists now, still, this morning.
And, come to think of it, I did see one thing I hadn't seen before: evidence that the sea wall along Ocean Drive was built by the WPA. Works. Progress. Administration. Hmmm. I started to think about that — on multiple levels — but had to turn my attention back to the road, as I was pedaling through significant traffic. No one was getting anywhere quickly ...
So I drafted (i.e. breathed exhaust and had my hearing challenged) behind a flashy Harley with Mass. plates for a bit. It had a fox tail, or what I took to be a fox tail, attached to the rear that kept flipping back-and-forth in the breeze. Then, when I got home, there was the cottontail who frequently shows up in our yard in the early evening. He (or she) doesn't even startle when I walk by saying: Hello, bunny. You're a good bunny. Keep munching, bunny. That's right, bunny ... just the way I always spoke to my children (when they were children) in a non-stop, sing-song, vaguely-reassuring, sleepy-time voice without saying anything in particular.
I'd arrived just-in-time to watch the sun slip down behind the trees through the foggy window over my kitchen sink ...
I realize I've used this/that sunset shot before, but it works for me.
And the window over my kitchen sink isn't really foggy ... just dirty.
