Transformation

Today I went on an early morning bike ride. My legs pumped. My heart pounded and my hands griped smooth leather. I sped past joggers, dog handlers, and weight watchers. I heard birds chirping, sprinklers spraying, a train choo chooing and a plane rumbling. Pungent-scented exhaust floated on the air and a breeze tickled my face. My senses feasted in the present moments, but not always. Sometimes my mind reversed and I drifted back to long ago riding days. This time I was pumping on a sandy road, not a paved street. My younger self perched on a blue and silver Western flyer, with no gears, nothing fancy. Ahead stood old houses to explore, a canal to swim, and a country store to buy penny candy. Life was simpler then. A horn honked and I glanced behind, expecting to see my dad in the 60's Ford Falcon wagon. Instead an impatient teenager in a Honda Hybrid zipped around me and my mind snapped back. Again I'm a middle ager with all the joys an problems that maturity brings. But I don't worry. Tomorrow's another day, another bike ride, and another chance to be transformed.