Spent the week near the shadow of death. I needed a getaway. One that only a bike can provide. I ride into the rain. I ride through the pain. It washes away the sadness, cleansing my soul. A glimmer of light at the end of a tunnel. If only for a couple of hours a much-needed escape. A hawk on a line sees it all but passes no judgments, The late summer season in its final crescendo. Flowers explode into dazzling display fireworks that could not rivel, Everything sticky sweet ripe almost too ripe! A black walnut bustin on the ground, a sunflower saluting high. Life goes on in this sleepy little town. Pedal on my friend, pedal on! The rain returns near the end, no longer to cleanse but to water the seeds of hope.

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