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I'd been in one of routine funks lately. It may be a cause of being alone - after having been surrounded my people for a couple weeks and my roommate moving out. I spilled myself all over the floor - and it wasn't until after that cleansing that i finally felt motivated to pick myself back up.
I have to thank my bicycle for that. I took her for granted. She gave me the little bit of exercise I do, more money not being spent on gas, more time outside, and moments like the above. Sadly, it appears to be my last, as she was stolen from my patio last night. It's my fault for forgetting to lock her up, but I never expected someone to steal her. But if I never get her back, (which I highly doubt) then at least the last ride was memorable. Perhaps the thief will have a similar experience (or break their arm in an accident). I'd still like her back though.
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One of my professors used the title phrase, or something resembling it, in class on Tuesday. Since then it's been in my head. I get this feeling of natural purity and innocence. Back to this time when things weren't corrupt. When you could walk barefoot in the yard or swim naked in the river. We no longer live in that world.
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Today is a bit darker. I am out of my funk and intend on cleaning my apartment. The spilling out was not merely a metaphor. But I will do so while remembering my bicycle and remembering the shire.
