“The lord loves children and fools,” goes the old chestnut, and since you’re certainly not the former, it must be the latter that your favorite Yaweh, Jehovah, Allah, Shiva, Brahma, Vishnu, or Great Spirit in the Sky was looking out for on that very hazy ride home at the end of the night for you even if others carried on long enough afterwards for the fuzz to show up.
Sometimes you have a plan, but more often than not, discarding one’s preferences leads to unexpected delights; case in point: a moment upon entering the forest path near the top of Discovery Park when sunlit dust turned the world golden and all of a sudden, for a few moments, it became the 19th century or thereabouts and you and yours were riding boneshakers over converted horse paths at dusk on contraptions tuned up by the Wright Brothers themselves.
Which is why, perhaps, the view from the ridge felt like flying, especially if you meandered just a little bit north to get out of the wind or stood behind someone large like the good Commander himself who led you there in the first place.
Eventually, the sun set and somehow you bombed to Ballard where it seemed like there was a movie playing although comparing the scenes with Luke Wilson to those with Will Ferrell sure made it seem like two different ones.
And then, bang, Gasworks Parks shows up and damned if your presbyopic eyes don’t bear witness to sights un-unseeable although that could surely be a dream, too, even if the fire itself is real.
It’s a good thing the bicycle is a gyroscope since God knows, God has enough to do with keeping the planets in their proper orbits to focus on His attention on your safe travels home; nevertheless, He is certainly to be commended for seeing that you arrive on your doorstep intact and with a spare beer in your bag, Praise the Lord!
Sometimes you have a plan, but more often than not, discarding one’s preferences leads to unexpected delights; case in point: a moment upon entering the forest path near the top of Discovery Park when sunlit dust turned the world golden and all of a sudden, for a few moments, it became the 19th century or thereabouts and you and yours were riding boneshakers over converted horse paths at dusk on contraptions tuned up by the Wright Brothers themselves.
Which is why, perhaps, the view from the ridge felt like flying, especially if you meandered just a little bit north to get out of the wind or stood behind someone large like the good Commander himself who led you there in the first place.
Eventually, the sun set and somehow you bombed to Ballard where it seemed like there was a movie playing although comparing the scenes with Luke Wilson to those with Will Ferrell sure made it seem like two different ones.
And then, bang, Gasworks Parks shows up and damned if your presbyopic eyes don’t bear witness to sights un-unseeable although that could surely be a dream, too, even if the fire itself is real.
It’s a good thing the bicycle is a gyroscope since God knows, God has enough to do with keeping the planets in their proper orbits to focus on His attention on your safe travels home; nevertheless, He is certainly to be commended for seeing that you arrive on your doorstep intact and with a spare beer in your bag, Praise the Lord!
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