5:30 AM. So grateful it was not raining and still early in the morning. Getting used to the route and maybe not noticing as much as at first. Smelled linden again, though with a hint of age, a reminder that it will pass, be missed.
At Meadowbrook, could just barely see a couple of iris blossoms, low to the ground. Tradescantia may be passing their peak, still lots of Penstemon. Also the first purple coneflowers, Echinacea. Many bird songs I didn't recognize near the iris, including one that sounded like a human whistling slowly. On the south side, away from the path, are bluebird houses, but haven't seen any bluebirds yet. Thought I saw swallows using one. Farther down, toward the observation platform, it smelled minty. Heard the "whirring" sound here.
Headed south on Race Street, past the trees that make me think of Wisconsin. The band of trees is narrow but still so nice. Something comforting about riding close to trees, can almost feel the cortisol levels go down. Turned east on Old Church Rd. Saw at least five cars in quick succession. What gives? Where is the quiet I had here last time? Was feeling greedy for it, especially after yesterday's traffic.
Going up the rise with the stark view, I realized this must be the actual Yankee Ridge, not the subdivision or the school but the geological feature. I love the little feeling here of not seeing quite over the ridge, being for a short time in the middle of nowhere; really like that spot. Then thought of something I read once about meditation--ultimately it lets one experience the wonder of being alive as much in a garbage dump (or heavy vehicle traffic) as at the top of a mountain (or ridge). Tried to remember that the rest of my life could be as engrossing as this bike ride in the country. Everything is just as it is, with its particular characteristics. Even life with teenagers and a messy house. Even the limits of my own generosity and competence.
On the South side of Old church was a prairie restoration, Barnhart Prairie, which had pretty much the same flowers blooming as Meadowbrook. Also it had the minty smell. Turned south on 1500E and passed a house, obscured by pine trees close to the road, The roof of which reminded me of a 1950's style airport, the old Meigs Field (Chicago), I think. Rode almost to the riding stable just a little ways down the road and turned back around. Someday I'll make a loop of it. In the horse pasture (paddock?) were a number of horses, including one with odd spots on its hindquarters. I stared (like a predator, it might have thought) at it until it whinnied at me, and I went on without determining whether the spots were of natural or artificial origin.
Keep forgetting to mention the smell of manure, which, though I know is excrement, I don't find unpleasant; it just makes me think of being out in the country.
On the way back on Race Street, saw the big rock that looks like a couch. I've seen it more than 100 times but am always struck by how it looks like a soft, comfy thing, especially when viewed from the south.
Arrived home at 6:45. Already tomorrow will be the last day.
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