We set out west for a bike run along the bayou near the house. The morning was perfectly still. The heavy days of summer are creeping up on us, when the only thing that moves is the air vibrating around the singing cicadas.
The trees are still, leaves are fixed in place like a still life, the flags hang limply around their poles. We cruise along effortlessly. The only resistance we meet are the new trail overpasses.
It’s going to be easy riding the whole way.
We come to our turnaround and start to retrace our route back east. A surprising breeze greets us as we now ride in the opposite direction. Did that just come out of nowhere, or was it pushing us along the whole way and we didn’t know it? I turned back again to check. Indeed, we had enjoyed a glorious back wind riding west. We had no clue.
What an image for our times.