SHE’S A THING OF BEAUTY

She’s sleek. If you look at her in just the right light, you can see the shimmer from her skin in the dying light of the day. Her hair is lustrous and smooth as my hand gently runs through the individual strands. I instantly accept that to maintain this level of beauty it will be necessary…

to provide time set aside daily for gentle washing and rinsing and drying. My eyes follow her curves as she moves back and forth –swaying with a rhythm that only she can hear.

When I’m away from her, I yearn to be close. The memory of her warmth on my hand palpable in the moment. The recall of the various cuts of her hair brings a smile to my face despite work obligations piling up. On Tuesday, it was a slash cut. On Wednesday – a blunt cut. Each day bringing a surprise as to how she moves me from place to place and then back again. Sometimes, I’m so high it seems my head is bouncing on the ceiling. At other times, she brings me low to the ground putting me in touch with my elements.

She can be complicated requiring that you know her mood and how to match her to the right mix of time and space. Sometimes, her frivolous side is apparent and I’m reminded of the playfulness and freedom of drawing outside the line when, as a child, crayons met paper – or didn’t!

She’s a warm blooded beast and I’ve had to come to appreciate that point. Brisk, early winter temperatures bring out the worst in her as she becomes petulant and finds ways to mess with my serenity. But, give her something warm to run her body across and you’d better buckle up for the ride because it is going to be glorious as she takes you round and round the enclosed space. Slashing here and slathering there bringing to my consciousness memories of Matty and Ned intertwined in those sultry summer nights.

Yes, she a thing of beauty…

(Damn, I’ve got to get this house painted so I can ride again. This paint brush is beginning to look way, way too good!)

 

Before “Superstorm Sandy” hit and made herself known even way down here in Western North Carolina, I had the opportunity to do a “safe riding” session for a local Cub Scout Den. I had 5 or maybe 6 young men of varying skills and strengths attend. A number of parents were also nearby. It was good to see all of them properly dressed with helmets from the get go.

I haven’t worked with folks of that age in quite a while so it was interesting for me to get back in touch with trying to keep their attention. The kids did well making it through the figure 8 course learning about right-of-way and yielding. I think they tired though when I started on counter-steering. The requests “Can we go ride now?” became more prominent and frequent helping me to understand that my time with them was coming to an end.

The hour long adventure helped me get back in touch with my own memories of riding with wild abandon as a child: not worrying about angry drivers, getting “Jerry Browned”, or obeying traffic regulations, Back then , it was just about going fast and then going faster… Nice memories to recall!

Unfortunately, I hear a little 3” Wooten paint brush calling my name. Of course, I have to make my daily visit to Lowes to pick up paint and other necessities as the Navigator and I try to finish the remodel on her family home. Moving day is creeping closer, which I hope means riding days are returning…

Until later,

- Zeke