In Which I Hope The Punctured Poet Does Well

It was too mushy to ride today and I was too busy anyway. But the wife and I took a short walk and saw these deer near the Dry Creek bridge on C Avenue NE, Cedar Rapids. When we were coming back, a bit later, one young deer was tearing back and forth on the north bank of the stream, for not particular reason, just racing and racing and racing around. Reaction to a January thaw?

We had a thaw today, but it was still too mushy to ride. Too many streets slick with snow from yesterday’s storm.

And the rest of this week is looking dicey. There a chance of snow both Monday and Tuesday, and the Arctic chill is expected to make yet another visit.

Still, it could be worse. A former U.S. Poet laureate suffered some serious injuries in a car-bike accident.

She’s 68, and she was the biker.

The comments on the story are instructive. Among many themes, one is the “I got hurt on a bike once and never rode one again.” That makes me a little sad. Biking is full of  joy. Sure, I can understand a serious injury or scare making someone shy about an optional activity, but riding a bicycle means getting there (if there is in town) and not having to encase yourself in an unpleasant metal box to do it. It’s to feel the breeze and hear the birds and make your own speed with your own body.

Well, it’s like poetry.

I hope poet Kay Ryan recovers soon. And may she bike again. After all, at 68, she’s way too young to stop now.