Knee hurts, so instead of running early AM I’ve been riding my bike lately. Trouble is it’s now fall and dark. Oh well – the better… Upon the razor’s edge once again. More juice. Might coast from time to time, but better not drift mentally till sunup.
Right turn and fifty yards out of my drive I drop down a steep hill. Feel like Batman falling off a lofty ledge Gotham dead of night. Shirt flutters, cool air streams by my face, I use my night vision to search for potholes.
Zoom through intersections and by homes asleep to another steep hill the climbing of which has me off the seat, pounds my heart, and puts me into oxygen debt. Just near the top, a light goes on in house on left. Kitchen. Lady. Uh, sweet!
Roll down other side a short way turn right and up beneath trees spread both sides touching middle. Blocks the little starlight not already filtered out by clouds. Hit puddle, sprayed from behind feel wet line up back must look like skunk. Then nearly toppled by an acorn, but it crunches.
Level out, cool down, cross a busy road against the light. Down longest hill yet into a park and a cloud. Thought of last time through and a gorgeous field of daisy-like flowers stretched toward dawn. Now though, dream dark, came to mind Piazza Campo Di Fiori* in Rome upon which a tennis match played 1606 ended with the brutal murder of one opponent by the other – great painter (and brawler) Caravaggio.
Funny, vigorous exercise almost always exorcises my demons. Or at least quiets them for a while. Especially if hair on the back of my neck is up. Quoting Holderlin Jung wrote: “Danger itself fosters the rescuing power”**
Out of the cloud mine sleep as I climb another hill then glide down the far side sharp turn right under bridge along swift creek. Best Chinese restaurant in town on far side. Ducks float in eddy to avoid Peking.
Up last hill by kids’ elementary school (man, that was a long time ago…) turn left & coast to driveway. Twenty mile loop complete. Stow bike hose off French roast pat dog KISS WIFE ok.
*”Field Of Flowers” in Italian.
**Carl Jung, Modern Man In Search of a Soul
***Painting is Caravaggio’s Head of Medusa which hangs in the Uffizi in Florence