Sunlight breaks through on Columbia Trail
Isn't this an awesome scene? I went for a very early ride this morning and I had the trail to myself. I'm lamenting the shorter days, wondering already how I will get sufficient training time as September draws nearer. I surely can't back-down my miles ahead of the trip. Today it just happened that I had an afternoon offsite meeting closer to home, so I worked from home in the morning which gave me the opportunity to hit the trail at about 6:30 am, just as the sun was rising through the trees.
For all the people in the world who can't imagine getting up at such an un-Christian hour when they don't have to, I'm the one who looks forward to rising with the sun and I'm irritatingly cheerful doing so. I love watching the earth wake up. It's part watching and part listening. The woods are so quiet at first and gradually, you begin to hear the scuffle of a squirrel and the first few bird songs. My bike tires on the gravel seem much too loud in this place. Being the first one on the trail also means being the cobweb breaker. Yuk. I passed a doe and her still-spotted fawn, nonchalantly munching away on the grass shoulder. I could have reached over and petted her nose; I was so close. She gave me a look that seemed to say, "Well, OK; you can be here too, but just keep moving." By the time I turned around, I was passing quite a lot of other walkers and joggers. Street noise picked its way into the woods, competing briefly with the sounds of the running river. And when I emerged back into the civilization of downtown High Bridge, nature had given me a full tank of its amazing energy. This is why I don't drink coffee!
For all the people in the world who can't imagine getting up at such an un-Christian hour when they don't have to, I'm the one who looks forward to rising with the sun and I'm irritatingly cheerful doing so. I love watching the earth wake up. It's part watching and part listening. The woods are so quiet at first and gradually, you begin to hear the scuffle of a squirrel and the first few bird songs. My bike tires on the gravel seem much too loud in this place. Being the first one on the trail also means being the cobweb breaker. Yuk. I passed a doe and her still-spotted fawn, nonchalantly munching away on the grass shoulder. I could have reached over and petted her nose; I was so close. She gave me a look that seemed to say, "Well, OK; you can be here too, but just keep moving." By the time I turned around, I was passing quite a lot of other walkers and joggers. Street noise picked its way into the woods, competing briefly with the sounds of the running river. And when I emerged back into the civilization of downtown High Bridge, nature had given me a full tank of its amazing energy. This is why I don't drink coffee!