Friday Photos: Details

There is something about a mist that brings the focus in close. First, of course, you literally can't see far, vision's distance is limited, the world becomes more intimate. Less literally, when world events seem dismal or just so sad, keeping the gaze close, focusing tightly on the world at hand, can bring beauty. And with beauty can come a calmer mind, perhaps even reassurance, hope.

Today Susan and I set aside our bikes, and walked the woods at Notchview, a Trustees of Reservations property, where we ski in the winter.

I was struck by the texture of the close at hand, the world immediately in front of me, the beauty found in the minutae of the natural world. Mine is a forested world where even without mist, long views are few and far between. Many fields, cleared in the 1800s, are now grown again into woodlands.

Lichen, algae, moss clinging to, perhaps even thriving on rock. Trees, covered with tiny intensely green mosses, reminding me of ancient clubmoss, with mushrooms growing alongside. Bark, splitting apart or gnarled, so beautiful on its own. We were startled by the toad, who stopped, posed so very still, no doubt convinced that by not moving he became safe, invisible. It is true that it was his motion that brought my gaze to him, his motion that made him vulnerable.

But wait, you say: mine is a cycling blog, right? I can think of three ways to link this post to cycling: tell you that I am reading a book by David Downe called "Paris to the Pyrenees" in which he claims that it was Nietzsche who said "That which doesn't kill us makes us stronger." Silly me, I had thought it was a cycling coach who said that, never thought of Nietzsche.

Or I could tell you that this is weather is calling for a mountain bike and sheltered routes. But I don't ride a mountain bike.

Or thirdly, that I bid you adieu until spring brings the return of the riding season. I am not yet ready for that.

So, until next week.