It really did get lighter; not just eyes adjusting, although there was probably that, too.
Maybe it was cloud cover, but there’s no doubt: I’m not the only one who reached for a headlamp upon arrival but eventually found it superfluous.
Most importantly, no one was hit by a train, a feat that would have been difficult, but hardly anything’s impossible on either side of the tracks.
Mainly, I’m reminded to have faith: if you take the route with no turns, you’ll eventually meet up; still, it might have been better to communicate better, except that it’s obvious when you’re following Fred that you can count on following.
Make a big loop and distance shrinks; follow the river bottom and soon, you’ll be on your way home. The shortest distance between two points can be surprising even three times in; hooray, hooray, hooray for the reminder to go forward.
Someday a birthday boy may be half your age, too; the bicycle makes it possible for this to be commonplace, not weird.
It’s too bad when people who could have come can’t because they won’t; on the other hand, if you won’t because you wouldn’t, then you could have only if you would have.
It’s maybe the best place of all, just like the other ones. There’s something about proximity to parallel lines extending to infinity, however, that helps a lot.
What can you get forty people to do whether or not there are exactly that many? Point being: plenty showed up and rode deep.
Chocolate covered cake powers mightily. Three to a pack and one is plenty.
Sparks beneath alders always inspire.
Notice what you’re noticing; remember all these memories. It only takes all it takes to get there.
I offer up my favorite form of gratitude for all there is to be grateful for: natural features, experiential connections, the way in which the seemingly unconnected leads directly to connections for the making.
Thanks for the light.
Maybe it was cloud cover, but there’s no doubt: I’m not the only one who reached for a headlamp upon arrival but eventually found it superfluous.
Most importantly, no one was hit by a train, a feat that would have been difficult, but hardly anything’s impossible on either side of the tracks.
Mainly, I’m reminded to have faith: if you take the route with no turns, you’ll eventually meet up; still, it might have been better to communicate better, except that it’s obvious when you’re following Fred that you can count on following.
Make a big loop and distance shrinks; follow the river bottom and soon, you’ll be on your way home. The shortest distance between two points can be surprising even three times in; hooray, hooray, hooray for the reminder to go forward.
Someday a birthday boy may be half your age, too; the bicycle makes it possible for this to be commonplace, not weird.
It’s too bad when people who could have come can’t because they won’t; on the other hand, if you won’t because you wouldn’t, then you could have only if you would have.
It’s maybe the best place of all, just like the other ones. There’s something about proximity to parallel lines extending to infinity, however, that helps a lot.
What can you get forty people to do whether or not there are exactly that many? Point being: plenty showed up and rode deep.
Chocolate covered cake powers mightily. Three to a pack and one is plenty.
Sparks beneath alders always inspire.
Notice what you’re noticing; remember all these memories. It only takes all it takes to get there.
I offer up my favorite form of gratitude for all there is to be grateful for: natural features, experiential connections, the way in which the seemingly unconnected leads directly to connections for the making.
Thanks for the light.
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