I knew when I was riding my bike around Ocean Drive at some point last week (without mittens!) that spring wasn't really here. It always teases. Stops and starts. Comes and goes. The days seem to be on some sort of on/off switch: blue, gray, blue, gray. Temps, too: warm, cold, warm, cold.
But snow?? That's a serious step backward. That's going a bit too far ...
So, as I sit here on a cold gray late-afternoon in late-March looking out at snowflakes (just a few, but still) drifting down, I can't help pondering that erstwhile ride. The warmth. The sights: boats, geese (they're everywhere), assorted visitors on seaside benches looking out toward familiar profiles such as Horsehead, Clingstone and a few other things that define the landscape/seascape as time and tide sweep past. There are sounds, too — most notably wind in my ears. That's pretty much all one hears when riding a bike. Then there was that other rider headed in the opposite direction somewhere around Hazard's Beach who said to me, as he passed, "I like your outfit."
I almost said "thank you" before realizing it was a joke. He was wearing exactly the same thing as I: black wind pants, day-glo green jacket ...
Which brings to mind another bike ride a few days earlier and another rider who passed me closer to town — where Coggeshall becomes Spring. I said to him, though I'm pretty sure he passed too fast to hear it, "I like your optimism."
He was in shorts ....
