One early evening I took a bike ride.
Twenty-two miles, more or less. The cool air felt icy against my hill-driven sweat.
Rose City Road, heading west.
As typical, not too much traffic, most of which (less than a half-dozen) were along the four miles I traveled on this road.
In the distance…there, by the treeline. Can you see them?
Off the traffic road, traffic turned natural. One deer ran out of the ditch toward these woods as I approached.
There they are!
My often-photographed tree from the east this time.
The setting sun was in my face. I turned to look back. It was a good time to change views.
And in the ditch…
…are flowers, worshiping the sun.
A splotch of wild-flowers catches my eye as a last sunbeam brightens their colors. Who would not stop here?
Three more. Can you see them all?
I stop because I spotted the deer on the left. It wasn’t until I uploaded this shot at home that I finally saw the third deer on the right!
…I had my camera!
COYOTE! We saw one a week or so before, not too far from here. This time there were two. And I had my camera.
Andy and I took a 15 mile ride on rolling roads around the patch yesterday. I could begin to love summer again with temps below 80.
Look who we came across…
Momma stomped out of the woods to greet me at the fence.
I pulled shocks of long grasses and wild flowers and offered them through the fence. She raked them away with her thick, rough tongue. I imagined steam puffing out of her nose; she breathed so heavily Andy could hear her from twenty feet away.
…but do not touch!
I reached in to feel the wiry mat of fur on her forehead. I did not think a creature so big could move so quickly; I scraped the back of my hand against the wire fence in retreat as she reared her head in protest. She rammed against the fence, which bowed but held, her horns thrusting through a warning.
The momma buffalo kept her body between me and the baby. Before long, she grew bored and shuffled the youngster off to join another adult and juvenile buffalo that had kept their distance.
As Andy and I turned the last corner to climb home we heard a high pitched scream and a drone above us. Looking up we saw a young eagle rising into the sun, pursued by a small airplane. I was glad to see the plane eventually veer away from the powerful bird of prey.
Who do you see on your bike rides?