This morning was foggy. Although lucky for me, half (21 miles) of my morning 40 mile commute is on a two lane road. It's more or less straight so the bracing air in the morning keeps me more awake than coffee ever could. Generally speaking traffic is travelling with me this time of day, by the time I hit the two and three lane roads closer to downtown Tampa the fog normally is burned off. Some try to pass me and I let them with no complaints. It's not the day to let Kimmie flex her muscles.
|Photo Copyright Steve Williams|
Still though, it's lovely to ride past the open fields of Central Florida looking at trees that seem to exist in a perpetual dream like state...or listen to the low bellow of a cow barely seen. The sun is on my left, low enough to dance between the trees but not high enough yet to burn off the fog.
Is it any wonder why so many motorcyclists seem to be philosophers, poets, writers or photographers? How do you capture beauty? A moment? How does time slow down at 65 MPH?
Traffic is a little heavier than normal as I turn towards town and my waiting job. I shiver a bit as a truck passes me and catches me in the turbulence for a moment. I tilt my visor up some to clear the mist off my visor and the morning air smells of exhaust...ah, life in the city.
My ride is an interesting one. Taking me over the Hillsborough River and past the Lowry Park Zoo and I swear I hear a lion roaring every morning as I ride past. Around a bend that somehow always seems to surprise me even though I know it's there. I cross over four rail tracks in total.
|Tampa and it's river.|
By the end of the day I'm mentally wasted. My new job is challenging, interesting, difficult as I use skills and muscles I've not used in years. I'm a lot of things to a lot of people now and not just "technical support".
I look forward on getting back on the bike although it's been windy and wet most of the day. I debate putting on the rain gear, but in the end decide not to. I'm not on the bike long before the day fades away.
I look forward to passing the zoo, the river (again glancing over to see boats and docks and lights glimmering off the water), those tracks. That stupid bend...then before you know it I'm back into the green that I love. The sun is on the other side now, low enough to dance across the fields where cows continue to bellow and a lone tree stands in resistance to the developer. By the time I get home Susan has dinner on, we chat about the day. We settle in with our books, games, TV, the computer or just a talk about what ever in on our minds.
We sit out on the lanai, why Floridians use a Hawaiian word for "porch" I will never know, and drink iced tea. Tipper and Sparky, our two rescued cats, are at our feet or looking at the birds eating at the feeders. Night comes early this time of year. I am content.
I think about the day, the fog and rain. Being enveloped by bad weather just means that you have to find your way out of it. You have to be smart, safe, careful and then, you reach your goal. You have to pay attention to the beauty on the way there. You have to be thankful for it.