Two Wheel Tuesday: Ripples

Night before the "Sugar Moon" the last day of winter. Ripples furrow the sky; streaming, shifting spaces of light and shadow, hills and hollows stretch from west to east, a curtain dropping on a season's final performance. Riders not seen gracing a mountain bike saddle for weeks or months emerge from hibernation. Ripples. A scent of still damp earth and dark clouds holding rain and spring growth and licorice; rolling wheels break the ground as shoulders rub the stalks of fennel releasing fragrance to rise and flow with gnats and flies. Ripples. Phalanx of mustard crowds obscures the winding way; thick stalks grab and grasp; foot down exclamation smash and stomp run rabbit run. Ripples.