Monday Blues: Unfinished Business

I'd been on their trail for several seconds now, a couple hundred feet. Maybe a little more, maybe a little less. Still a tick before seven o'tock, but there was no denying the day on the beat had been long and it was reflected in my energy level. Still, I kept on; they were here, somewhere and i was going to find them. Sooner, hopefully, rather than later.

The name is Frydae, Joe Frydae, and I ride a bike. A mountain bike mostly, but a road bike sometimes. Instead.

The beat is where ever the spinning wheels take me. Sometimes they take me here, other times they take me over there...

That is as far as this post got back in July 2024, before i set it aside, unfinished, and moved on to something else. If you are of a certain age, and have at least a passing familiarity with Dragnet, i suppose you can kind of guess where i was going with it, but where i intended to take it after that last sentence up above, only the ether of my mind now knows.

Anyway, while they have not completely abandoned the place, the frequency of spotting even a single deer, let alone a grouping, seems to have declined over the years. Though the area is quite capable of hosting the entirety of an evening dirt ride once or twice a week, it is really not a large space, and the plethora of trails now criss-crossing the land between dirt roads, has likely made it a less favorable place to creatures whose preference is for peace and quiet, and solitude.

Call someplace paradise, kiss it goodbye?