Untitled (1)

[2008年11月07日(金) ]

[2nd story out of 4 * read the 1st story + 3rd story]

Vehicles.
I

love

them.
Cars, bicycles, they take you anywhere.

Maybe it’s because I’m too active to stay at home.
I constantly want to go out whenever the temperature is above, say 15 degrees or so.

Europeans establish their own tradition.

One of my friends once told me her husband, a Finn, loves

skiing.
Every Friday in winter he goes out at the same time,
heads for the same ski resort,
drops by the same convenience store on his way to the slope,
stays at the same hotel,
in the same room,
every or nearly every weekend
as long as there is enough snow to ski on.
Once, she told me, the hotel was closed for small renovations during the ski season.
Her husband didn’t even consider reserving a room at another hotel and stayed home during said (sad?) weekend.

Maybe I’m the same, or similar anyway.
I love

cycling.
Weather permitting, I never even hesitate about how to spend the morning of my day off.
I never doubt about the cycling course either; it seems that, for me, only 2 courses exist, a short one of about 45 minutes around the place where I live,
and the longer one all the way to the lake and back, which takes 2 and a half to three hours depending not only on the wind conditions and the traffic lights but also on my physical condition.
Both courses are indelibly

etched in my mind.

It is not only cycling itself, it encompasses more.
Though the scenery may not vary but depending on the season, the smell does.
I mean not only the smell of flowers, no,
there is much more to relish:
trees,
moss,
the unique smell of soil,
rice fields,
and water.

On the way to the lake I cycle along a river for one kilometer or so.
Part of that cycling road is sandwiched between some pampas grass and rice fields.
They may be 2 kinds of grass, the sound they give off is very different.
Pampas grass is much taller and sounds lighter, at higher frequencies than the heavier rice plants before the harvest.

Further on, where the river drains into the lake,
some ups and downs keep you busy.
A 100-meter stretch next to a bushy hill feels chilly all year round.
As if the temperature suddenly drops about 3 degrees every time you pass there.

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