Showing posts with label bicycle. Show all posts
Showing posts with label bicycle. Show all posts

Monday, January 23, 2017

Local Color Observations

I

Usually, the multicolored Asian lady beetles swarm my house in October. Full sun blasts my western-facing entrance (door and windows and wall), and the insects gather in huge numbers, often squeezing their way inside.

This year, they didn't. The drought, I suspected. I was relieved -- no taping around the door, no vacuuming the hordes up and flushing them (one of the very few bugs I intentionally kill).

But in the last week, we've had a bit of sun on two days (one lots, one only a little; this is the rainy season), and on each occasion I saw a couple of beetles -- here and there.

Like this one, on a University stone bench between my house and the bookstore, tiny and alone, taking in the sun as I was, on one of the only opportunities of late to do so. I know they "rest" otherwise, in crevices of bark or narrow spaces between windows and walls.

Their intermittent appearance is an odd reassurance that life goes one, even in the darkest days.


II

Abandoned bikes also appear mysteriously, and sometimes disappear. A still new Schwinn (rapidly aging) has been locked to the rack in front of the bookstore for months. I think I saw it even in summer. No one has ever claimed it. A perfectly good bike, in situ, since the owner left it there.

I can't help wondering about her, the owner (it is a woman's bike), and why she never returned. 


III

Unlike the beetles, campus bike owners often simply disappear, leaving the hardware behind.

Tuesday, July 24, 2012

Healthier Living and Unintended Consequences

My 12-year-old car has officially died.  I am now Carless in Sewanee.

As a result, I bike or walk where I once drove.  For three days running, I have biked to Lake Cheston, 1.5 or 1.7 miles each way (depending on the route).  I can feel muscles in my lower back that I had forgotten were there.  They are now unhappily announcing themselves.  My legs feel stronger already.

Better health may be an unintended consequence of a hunk of metal junk stuck at the end of my driveway.

But so may be a few startling pictures, especially those I took today at a friend's horse pasture.  Had I driven by, I'd never have seen yesterday's Spot-winged Glider swarm or today's Swift Setwings.







When I get a car that works, I may have to reconsider my travel habits.