I have gone for two bike rides in the past three days. It is most marvellous to feel familiar muscles in my thighs and lower back groaning again, and to stretch my arms high after dismounting and feel that luscious ache of fatigue. There is still some snow on the paths in Odell, and lots of mud and run-off water on other trails. On these two first rides I've gotten rather muddy up the back of me, which is also delightful: coming home with splatters and splooshes on the back of my jacket and pants. After a winter of walking, how glorious it is to speed along the sidewalks, bumping over the cracks, checking over my shoulder--yes, it's alright--zipping down the pavement and across a road, onto a trail, along the surface. Pumping the pedals hard, then sailing with only one hand on the handlebars, smiling at birds and creeks and soggy spring ground as I pass.
There are baby rhubarb nubs coming up out of the moist bed on the side of the house. These are little red curled leaves, poking up out of the ground first with a pure-white top, looking a bit like a strange species of clam living along an ocean vent, that clean color, that raw newness. They grow a little more each day, and when I come home in the afternoon I pass and tell them I love them.
The light is also lasting longer. It is only now getting dark, and it is 8:30! This is the last week of classes, and then we're into exams, and then it's done! A year! Yes. And it is spring, and I am riding my bike. How lovely.
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