Since I live so close to work, the ride there and back again is not much. If you do the math on the miles this week, they do not really stack up. And like everyone else in this world, the same route over and over can get boring, dull, routine.
If you let it.
But even the shortest ride has beauty.
The sound of the motor.
A cloudless sky with bright sunshine.
Little kids waving.
The aroma of breakfast burritos coming from the taqueria.
The feel of my leather gloves.
The same old stoplights, the same old roads. But every day is different, and every ride fills me with life, with joy, with gratitude for another day.
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