The Canada Geese were migrating this past weekend. When they are at altitude, and going somewhere, their calls sound less harsh, less of a honk, and more of a singing coo. When the geese are high in the sky, and traveling, arrowing along, I want to follow them.
Do you ever get on the bike with no particular destination? You start out thinking, “I’ll just go out for a bit,” but have no idea where. So you start riding. The day is nice, and you feel good. You start with one of your regular routes. (By this time in your life, every possible direction from your house is one of your regular routes.) But you get to one of the turns, one that would take you home, and you don’t take it.
“I’ll go a bit farther today,” you say to yourself. And you do. Then you arrive at the “last turn for home,” and you wonder, “Where does that road go?” And then you follow it. New territory unfolds before you. You’re just following your front wheel, and it is good.
I want to follow the wild geese, to just follow their travel-songs, to ride south and keep riding. No turning back. Going where the road goes.
Tempting, isn’t it?
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