Dinosaur With Headphones

Took the first real bike ride of the year today.

The spring afternoon was beautifully chorused by a smooth summery soundtrack of the great Smokey Robinson. It's nice when you're on a ride and the music is right.

Iowa's lovely lingering sunsets will be missed. I wish I could get on the road and have no destination. But the sounds of the earth, of everyone and everything, beat like a blistering drum in my ears the banal missions of existence. The futile struggle to matter that we all must pursue.

... Well I'm in a pleasant mood.

The truth is, bike rides are fine and music is lovely, sunsets are gorgeous but all suns must set, and when you're left with the colorless night there are those that can paint on its blank canvas with the ones that they love, and those that seem to have run out of paint.

I'm not particularly thrilled with anything that I've just written, but for a few minutes I had the words to be my company, which is nice and familiar.

Songs are better than my thoughts, and Smokey had some magical moments of clarity.

"Just a minute ago your love was here,
then all of the sudden it seemed to disappear.
Sweetness was only heartache's camouflage,
the love I saw in you was just a mirage."