Yesterday on my walkabout, (yes I am still doing the loop) I was trying to notice things that normally my eyes would pass over.
I came across some very colorful leaves, some flowers, birds, but the one thing that caught my attention and took my breath away was when I rounded the corner to the garden and I came across this scene…
In an instant I was transformed back to 1973 – back to 16 years old – back to the days when my biggest worry was the math assignment due the next day.
Glistening as if white gold – handle bars like a wild sheep’s horns – my 10 speed – my freedom – my way to fly!
It may sound odd – but to that 16 year old girl with the long blonde hair it was everything in the world she wanted. It was a way for her to escape from the world that was closing in on her. It was her stab at freedom – for a time it was her reality. It represented everything she wanted to be, every thing she was, in ways she did not even realize at the time.
Life moved on –
Several years ago my dad brought this bike out to the farm. “I thought you would want your bike. Maybe the kids would like to ride it”
There was a silent internal gasp of horror as my eyes took in the scene before me. The handlebars had been modified in a ghastly upright position. There were fenders where there were none before, and a basket had been added.
The indignation of it all!
“I rode it for a time” my dad explained “but I had to do a few modifications to make it work for me – how you ever rode it the way it was I will never know”
I just smiled, but somewhere way down deep my heart broke a little that day.
This past spring Jamie was doing some cleanup around the farm, loading stuff to take away to the dump. He had quite a pile collected, bits of metal, old fencing and such. “What do you want me to do with that old bike?” he asked.
“Keep it” I said.
He never questioned that fact, or even asked me why, and for that I am forever grateful, for it would be to hard to explain.
I will never ride that bike again; but I will never get rid of it either.
My bike is leaning against the garden fence now.
I think I will clean it up, perhaps repaint it. Maybe with Jamie’s help I can get the handlebars back to how they were, take off the fenders and remove the basket. Maybe I will prop it up in my garden and let the bean plants grow up through the spokes – or perhaps I will put it in with the roses, and allow the roses to create a blanket over it – but I am not getting rid of it.
Some dreams are meant to be held on to – this is one of those dreams!