Range of Light

Toward the end of yesterday's bike ride I first noticed a change in afternoon light. Shadows lay differently on the pavement beneath my wheels, and in this summer that persists beyond its appointed months, I welcomed the change. The ride itself became somewhat interesting when I stopped after the first 20 minutes to telephone a woman with whom I have been trying to connect for a couple of days. Nothing like dripping sweat onto a notebook I had carried with me as I tried to take notes of bits of conversation I will have to remember.

Our connection was weak--she was in her car in Southern California, hundreds of miles away from me and my bike--but we managed to accomplish our purpose. She is one of a few people who might be instrumental in my own change of light, to use a poor metaphor. Late next week, after a couple of discussions and after weighing certain risks against potential rewards, some aspects of my life might be different. Most people who are old like me don't seem to make these types of changes, perhaps because we are fatter and slower and more comfortable than we remember ourselves being. We'll see.