It's the time of the season

Today I went on literally the best bike ride of my life.
All
Alone.
Tunes: Everything from Explosions in the Sky to The Zombies.

Five minutes into the balmy ride the sky opened up and rain sprinkled down on me.
I thought about turning around. Then the sprinkle turned into a down pour.
It felt gooooood. Great. Refreshing. Intense. I was soaked to the very marrow.
My glasses were flooded so I tucked them between the girls. I was blind as a bone.
The wind whipped my hair around and my smile knocked over trees.
I pedaled as fast as I could. I pedaled right through that thunderstorm.
On top of the great red bridge I stood above the world. A beautiful man passed by:
slowed slowed slowed down. Smiled. "You're wet," he says. I nod grow red like a cherry and pedal away fast fast faster still.

After the rain no one is left on the trail but me and the great gusts.

So I sing. At the top of my lungs. I could keep this up for days, I think. But people might worry so I turn round for the ride home. I promise myself to bring a camera next time because I haven't seen such beauty manifest itself in nature for seasons. Or perhaps it was always there, but I was too fast and hard to notice. When I think the ride can get no better ... I stop quietly.
which if you know the ways of The Last Unicorn quietitude is a great feat.
Two young deer, not five feet from me. A couple. A buck and a doe. No fence or bars seperating us. Holy stinking moly.

When did The Last Unicorn become such a nature lover? Hell if I know, but I won't deny that it amazes me. I won't deny the absolute awe that the wild inspires in me. The perfect ending to this lovely night would be a forty around the fire. But alas I am tired and must work early. Sleep is nice and I once again dream with the best of em.

Tonight I've decided two things:
1) Next summer I want to go to Mexico (it's so underrated).
2) This summer my goal is to learn Hotel Yorba on the guitar.