Yesterday. . .

I went for a twenty-one mile bicycle ride.

Today. . . I am (still a little) sore. I was sore-er this morning, when I had to sit in the church pews. How long has it been since I have had that kind of exercise?

Too long. Clearly. (Feelingly.)

It was a beautiful day for a bike ride though. A glorious day. We rode to a state park. And then we rode down gravel and dirt and asphalt roads: over ruts, under the branches of bright trees. We sucked in great gulps of sharp air, and let it out in laughter. We gathered apples from an untended apple tree (a "feral" apple tree, my cousin and I dubbed it), and Dad carried some of them in his shirt . . . all the way home. All the (by then) fifteen miles home.

I was not intending to be gone for five hours. It started out such a short little ride. An hour to the state park, then an hour for lunch, then home. But, "we're planning on riding back," Dad said. "I'm game," I said. "Only, how long do you think it will take?" "An hour--an hour at most," he replied, confidently.

We missed our turn. And three hours later, we were huffing up the last stretch of the last unpaved hill.

The view, though, was something like this:

So it was worth it.

(Picture stolen (but lovingly) from MamaBlogger. Still, it's recent; and accurate.)

Moonlight in the early morning

I woke this morning to a pale orange moon, perfectly round, framed by the silhouettes of tree branches and hung against a backdrop of velvety navy-blue sky. I stood by the bedroom door, hand just above the light switch.

Light on, I checked the time. 6:20am. Still ten minutes before it was time to shower. I got back in bed and pulled the covers back around me.

When I woke up for the second time, the moon had disappeared behind a tangle of woods. It left behind it a slowly lightening sky spangled with small shards of yellow moonglow.

It's going to be a beautiful day.

Indian summer

The clouds parted yesterday afternoon. Grey sky split open to reveal ripe blue heavens. A haze drifted over the valley, mingling with rusty trees and the golden-brown of drying fields. Chesterton and I went out for a walk. We talked about Plato's Theaetetus and conjugated some present tense verbs in German. I let Chesterton off his leash, and then I had to talk to myself whilst he gamboled ahead of me. We took the path through the woods, found some sticks and tried to play with them.

I say "tried," because Chesterton doesn't believe in playing the good retriever. I throw the stick and then he runs with it--away from me. Clearly we're playing different games. That is the trouble with games, isn't it? So many rule books and so many different interpretations. And then, how do we even know whether or not something's a game to begin with?

We rested for a while in the shadow of a great golden hay bale. Chesterton found a twig and gnawed on it at my side. Later, walking back, he found an acorn to carry. He always finds acorns at exactly the same place. And he always picks them up and holds them in his mouth all the way back home. A good luck charm? Or a sign of conquest? I'm still trying to decide.

Today the fog and grey clouds came back. Cold air creeps under the door jambs and coats the wood floors. I wore a scarf to church and regretted my skirt. Hard to believe that only yesterday the sky out my bedroom window was blue.

Saturday at home

Reading:
Biology Made Simple (I must admit that I have an inherent distrust of any book that markets itself as anything "made simple." I especially distrust a book that is part of a series boasting other titles like: Latin, Psychology, and (horror of horrors!) Philosophy(!) Made Simple.)
Finding Order in Nature
The Epic History of Biology

Writing:
1 lab report
1 reading log
1 English essay on grammatical ambiguities, angels, and the voice of God in the Abrahamic narrative. (Doesn't it sound exciting?!)

Listening:
Sara Bareilles (Little Voice)

Watching:
Well, nothing--yet! We just moved the family room couches upstairs (to make room for the eventual delivery of new couches downstairs), so we finally have a comfortable place (i.e. NOT the floor) to watch movies.