Darkness on the Edge of Town

It's lonely waiting atop the hill at the edge of town. Waiting for the night riders to reach the summit. Drivers pass and look over, wondering "what's that guy doing there?" A Sheriff's deputy drives by, two officers looking over, wondering "what's that guy doing there?" Then the riders come into view, up over the edge where the horizon drops into the unknown. Lights lead the way, before figures with arms straining at bars, legs straining at cranks, pushing and pulling, contrast in harmony. It is dark now, I can't make out any faces.

The riders come into view, up over the edge. But it is dark now and, standing in the dark beside the road they probably can't see me any better than I can see them, yet some look over and wonder, "what's that guy doing there?"

I thought I could get one last twilight for photos of the Monday Crazy Legs Ride before darkness takes over for the remainder of the year, but no, the curtain fell quickly. By quarter to seven all lights were on and very few were passing by anymore, seeing, wondering "what's that guy doing there?"