Slow Sunday Scenes from the Village, 22 June

I learned something this week … no, that is not quite true - i didn't so much learn it, as had it reaffirmed. That something is that this human world of ours can be a pretty damned screwed up place. It is a place where the life of a fellow human is worth only so much as the cost of a one-hundred seventy-five dollar traffic citation. It is a place where a man can be run down by another driving an auto at a sedate fifteen miles per hour, and dragged for seventy feet before the driver is able to bring his vehicle to a stop. With a history of bad blood between the two, a judge never the less rules that nothing wrong had taken place (sorry, i seem to have lost the reference on this one). It is a place were one can kill a five year old child while driving at twice the speed limit and simply shrug it off as "shit happens", a natural, everyday occurrence, in other words. Well, at least he gets some jail time for doing it in public.

It is enough to leave you demoralized. 

Alright then, that is two days of bad crap i have thrown out at you. But you know what, at the end of the day all that gets overshadowed by the good, doesn't it? It is the reason we keep riding year after year, day after day. We have discovered that there is no better way, or very few, to spend that unfilled portion of each day, our otherwise free time, than being out on a bike ride. The sun, the breeze, the energy, camaraderie, scenery, the sweat, salt encrusted kit, burning legs, being able to eat that slice of German chocolate cake, swill that pint of Guinness, because it has been earned.

So, beginning today i, as sovereign ruler of this here domain, rule that this next week will be nothing but good, and that that decree shall extend to all my faithful readers. To kick things off, a few Slow Sunday Scenes seem to be in order:

even when not in use, oval bike racks serve a fun, playful purpose - running through them, climbing over them, weaving around them

three baskets full of produce, and an energizing ride back home

It was as nice a morning to ride down into the Village as you could hope for. An apricot pinwheel in hand, and a cup of coffee beside me, i sat and watched the people go by as the wife did a little shopping at the farmers' market and formulated plans for the 4th with friends of the family. That tricycle license plate summed it up succinctly. Next weekend should be a terribly busy one, race-wise - Junior Nationals on the track, mountain biking in Glendora, Masters state crit championships in Ontario, so it was good to take a relaxing Sunday off.