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24 February~2008
After taking Ben and Maggie on a walk this morning (Sunday), I got ready to go down to meet a friend to walk at a park near her home. Instead of driving I left early so I could ride my bicycle.My attitude is always that whatever gets me out of those boxes on wheels is good - be it walking or backpacking or riding my mountain bike - I am out in the sun and fresh air.
Snowbanks were still melting on the north sides of buildings, but this day was warm, and felt closer to spring than winter.
I took the path up Cherry Creek, and along the way approached a Dad and his three or four-year-old son, standing on a sandy bank picking up stones and throwing them into the creek. As I passed the little boy turned to pick up another rock, and his face shone with pleasure and delight.
I climbed out of the creek bikeway and went south. I angled off onto the grass to give a man and his puppy some room. It was a little black and white border collie pup, maybe three months old. He was so little that his tail was still long and slender - not having developed the bushiness that border collie tails usually get.
When I went by the collie looked up at me with innocence and wonder. Of course my heart was struck, considering how much I love dogs, and how many border collie puppies I have had over the years.
After our walk I rode over to the Tattered Cover and read and wrote some. It was dusk when I finally headed West towards home. The city was already in shadows, which revealed an attractiveness you don't see in the sunshine.
It was a good day, made better by navigating the city by bicycle. A day of cycling imparts a feeling of freedom, gliding along the streets and sidewalks, strong and healthy, with hardly a care in the world.
