Trusty steed,
reminding me after a long ride,
when I’ve forgotten my own strength,
there is more in me
than I ever believed.
My old bike
She’s been a tried-and-true friend since ’92. I still have the receipt that shows when and where I bought her and the mere price I paid back then for so much freedom, so much well-being. She’s been with me through many puddly springs, searing summers, and technicolor autumns of wild exploration. She’s carried me along canals, sandy shores, pebbled paths, and some memorable steep mountain passes, as well.
She doesn’t ask for much: a little spray of WD-40, maybe a new seat, some air in her tires. But honestly, she’s been simply herself for many decades now.
I tend her well, and now so does my husband. He looks after her, and quite frankly, he looks after me too. These bodies we’ve been given, these bones and muscle, they need to move. They need to be tuned up. Appreciated. They need both rest and adventure. And if you treat them right, they’ll be at the ready, too.
No upgrades required. No constant replacing. Just care.
My bike and I,
after all these years,
still here.
With love and allowing,
Nancy |
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