Let It Ride

The air hangs thick around me like a heavy blanket.  It feels hard to breath.

Part of me wants to lay down and turn on the TV until I forget the clear, salty water lapping against black rocks.  I want to plug-in and tune out the silence of the mountain canopy, the smell of salt in the morning air. 

It’s been a habit for years.  Take the cords, plug in the brain, escape.  But not tonight.

Instead I’ll ride.

My bike will sway back and forth like the waves.  The wind will be both a blanket and a bath that warms and washes my memories for storage.  The darkness of the night on the country roads will by my ocean and my sea.