Once Upon a Sunday


Once upon a Sunday, I went for a bike ride.
I found some inspiration, and I named it sunshine.
That inspiration is the downhill ride over the potholes of winter.
It is the mud splashed on my back going through puddles at full speed.
It is the discovery of a new park, a new bike trail, a new adventure.
It is the wide open fields and the prospect of exploring them.
It is a ladder and the desire to climb to the top.
It is the family going for an afternoon stroll.
It is the bikes parked on the muddy trail where people decided to hike.
It is the sweat from my brow and the tears from my eyes, crystallized on my face.
It is the pain of climbing a hill and the satisfaction of reaching the top.
It is the stories behind the faces. The faces in cars, on sidewalks, in parks. The
baby in the stroller, the fisher on the bridge, the boy in the baseball field.
Inspiration, illuminated by the April sun, discovered on a couple of spinning wheels.
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