25: a quarter of the way to my goal of 100 rides of summer

[judifilksign]

 I had a nice long swim with pondside this morning; it was nearly an hour and forty five minutes of lapping and treading.  Ah, good company makes boring repetitive laps interesting and fun.  I could really feel my calves being tight today, though.  I had to stop and stretch them out before they cramped.

Got new music practiced today, too, and the set list for this weekend all put in order.  The banjo strap that my darling husband bought for me at Christmastime that would not fit through the banjo pins did fit through the pins at D & J's house.  I think the air conditioning there helped to take away any swelling from humidity in both banjo and leather, and we got them through, hooray!  I now have fewer fears about dropping Burton on my foot.  I have new dreams about playing Burton standing up.  (Sure not there yet.)

Supper was early tonight, on account of Dino having to go to band practice.  Since rain was forecast, Sparkle and I set out right after supper.  Sparkle was chirpy and pleased, and asked to cross the Troll Bridge and go to the second yellow sign again, that longest distance we did the other night.  I was pleased that she was in better space today.  I was also happy because this it the twenty fifth trip out for me, and it felt very much like a milestone: twenty five.  Has weight to it.

 The sky was gray and low.  Crossing the street through our townlet to get to the bike path was more difficult than usual, for a major road has been detoured along it, and traffic was much busier than that to which I am accustomed.  We got to the first road, and saw major ripping up of the rail road tracks as they crossed the road.

Sparkle was interested in seeing all of the construction vehicles up close.  "They say CAT, Momma!"  Then she said, "We need to turn around and go home.  Tut, tut, it looks like rain."

"Don't you want to go to the Troll Bridge, honey?" I asked, "And the yellow sign?"

"Yes, No. Not today.  Tut, tut, it looks like rain.  I do not want to ride in the rain."

 

"Let's see how far we can get.  Maybe it will just stay gray," I said.  I was really hoping for a nice ride tonight.

We crossed the bike path just past the construction.  Sparkle was making reluctant noises, and then, a sudden "AAAAH!" as a big fat drop of rain plopped on her arm.

"We had better turn around," I said soothingly.  "You were right, it is going to rain."  Inside, I was saying "Drat it!" to myself, denied a long run two nights in a row!  I turned the bike around, and Sparkle agitated a moment until it became clear that the issue was that we always drank water when we turned around, and we had to do that, rain or not.  I passed back the bottle, she touched it to her lips, and handed it back.

"Let's go, Momma.  Time to beat the rain.  You had better pedal fast today, or we will get wet."  

 

(Oh I had better, had I?)  I contented myself with saying, "I will pedal fast, but I NEED your HELP.  Can YOU help PEDAL FAST to get our bike back SAFELY HOME?"  Dora the Explorer could not have said it in a more saccharine way.  (Ugh.)  Sparkle totally responded to this method, though.

And so, we pedaled as fast as fast we could, speckles of rain appearing on the dry path around us.  Under the trees on the right side of the path, it was dry enough that we didn't get much on us.

On the left, where the fence separates us from the rail line, birds were perched, with their wings spread out and their heads up to the sky, for all the world looking as though they were taking a shower in the rain.  Maybe they were.  I've seen the same kind of birds giving themselves dust baths, so perhaps they feel itchy with mites and are hoping they'll be cleansed of the itchies if it rains hard enough.

 

I saw a bird that I've been seeing in the same spot, over and over.  It is a small blue bird, not a jay, for it has no crest, and not a blue bird with the red bloom, but a deep hued blue all over.  It flies as though it is hurt a bit away from its tree, then veers at right angles away from the path.  I expect it is guarding a nest.  Looking it up on the internet, I think it may be an Indigo Bunting, and some of the little brown birds I've seen may be the females.  They live in scrub and forest edges next to farmer's fields, and that sure describes the bike path habitat.

 

 

We pedaled mightily home as the rain started picking up, and pulled in the drive as the neighbors were abandoning their al fresco dinner for the great indoors.  They smiled and waved at us as Sparkle scolded the dogs to get out of our way, or we would hit them, and that would just be too bad, and we wouldn't be sorry, because it would be all their fault.  Since this was nearly verbatim to what our neighbor had said the other night, we all had to laugh.

Comments

[chryssalys]

I read the first line of your description of the bird and thought: Indigo Bunting. They were one of my mother's favorite birds, and there were always quite a few of them around the house when I was growing up. :)

Congrats on the milestone, hon. I'm sure you'll make your goal.

[catsittingstill.livejournal.com]

second on the indigo bunting.

And congratulations on your 25th ride!