The wind in my hair, up so high, the tree's green canopy becomes my sky.
I lift a hand and touch the leaves, as I fly by.
I am surprised that this still brings me joy.
So simple.
Standing on my pedals.
37 years old.
I wonder if it will always be this way. No matter how old I am.
If when I am 80, (probably on one of those three wheeled beach cruisers with the big basket in back), if I will still pump my legs along, to get up speed, so I can stand on my pedals, up high in the breeze.
I think if I can I will, and I think it will bring me joy still.
2 comments:
Yes, I think we owe it to ourselves to keep standing up on those pedals, Taffiny. Nice blog - I'm intrigued by that photo you removed now!
Oh! Just my back (to the tippy top of my bum), I put up a modified verson of it (just my back).
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