Monday Blues: Where Is Everyone?

I am pretty sure we were not even supposed to be there; there were very few others venturing about. It was a Saturday, sure, but students were still banished from campus where there should have been a hustle, and bustle, of activity. Except for over by the beach, the place was eerily quiet. We seemed like intruders, the image made more real because masks were pulled up, covering our faces. These bike racks, along with all the others I saw Saturday last, should have been filled to near capacity this time of year, slots to hold rear wheels, keep bikes upright, difficult to come by at some of the parking lots. Instead, entire rows were empty, mute testament to the power of a microscopic virus. Most of the bikes that have remained behind, are but bones and, maybe a little sinew, decaying through the spring and summer months, and now into the autumn. They have been picked over by vultures and grave robbers, in search of a morsel or more valuable trinket. They are graveyards of derelict bikes, now and until students return to campus.

The Monday Blues has been an occasional feature here at the blog since inception; the blues, an emotion, a color, a genre of music, with a cycling twist.