Every person only gets so much steam.  It is up to each of us to decide how to use it or let it leak out of its own accord.

No pictures, just words.  Steady rain knocking fat magnolia blossoms onto the sidewalk like fried eggs slipping onto the Waffle House floor.  The smell of them so sweet it is pornographic and I blush just driving over them in the road.

A bike ride last night 20 years overdue with Joey B and an old friend who ate potato soup on a cold day while carving out the first mountain bike trail in Tallahassee that I ever knew of, sweet Grandma Munson.  Maybe it was potato soup, or maybe said he built a chicken coop, his pink bike spinning so fast I heard nothing but wind.

A fresh clean burn on the forest, setting the crest of Woodpeckers off in contrast with the matte black floor of the burned pine needles, green shoots of grass already reaching up over pedals. Long views through the missing underbrush, blueberries hidden off the trail not quite ready.

Just falling into each pedal stroke hoping to never hit the bottom, yarding the next one up around the 12 O’ clock and then hammering towards earth.  I can hear them back there, one wrong move and they will have me.  No wrong moves tonight though.  I’m all on the one and riffing on the breaks.

The way points north to Alabama tomorrow.  I’ll lay my head back and watch the sun shine down on the great south and loll away the miles while my girl pins it to the white line and cocks her foot up on the dash.


3 Responses to Steam

  1. No pictures. I like that. I have been thinking about that. Thinking about how I can communicate what I see and feel another way. Everyone has a digital camera, so easy to steal the soul of what we experience with the hi tech machinery. Instagram for goodness sake! Have a small drawing pad and pencil in the pack on walks and longer rides now. Experimenting.

    You do very well with *just* the word.


    Find the flow on that drive.

  2. Here’s the thing that keeps bringing me back. It’s like this, I read some sites, just to see what’s going on in so and so’s life. Sometimes interesting, only because I know them, or they do interesting things. But here, it’s different. I come here because you make me want to DO things. Sometimes big things, but more often than not, little things. Things that are the building blocks to contentment. I’ve surfed, skated and ridden mountain bikes, all for the same reason. There’s a feeling that you get when all of the powers that effect a moment line up perfectly, and that feeling is so good, you spend all your future efforts trying to get another taste. It’s not there every time. It’s a gift that’s savored, and then pursued. You consistently and so eloquently describe those gifts, that it just further fuels my desire to pursue those moments. Thank you for that, J.

  3. I believe Bigworm put it all quite well.
    Y’all have a great time in Alabama.
    And also? That was a fantastic picture.