I think I must have been the only bike rider between here and Paris that was not racing on the weekend. Instead, I soft pedaled in the woods, stopping often to look around and smell—and photograph— the flowers.
And while it has happened on countless occasions, I am always surprised and delighted at the wide-angled brilliance of my surroundings. Especially when I am forced—this time by tired legs and lungs— to take a few moments to actually absorb them. Too often they pass in a blur of color and light. An unseen, under appreciated backdrop to heart rate monitors and a ticking clock.
Details, previously unnoticed, emerge into sharp focus, adding layers of depth to a world absolutely inundated with varied nuance and beauty.
Even if some of that beauty… is man-made.
Soft pedaling is taboo. An insult. But sometimes, it can be rather—and fantastically—enjoyable.