Date: August 1
August mileage: 18.3
Temperature upon departure: 51
Last bicycle ride in Homer.
With a wind chill in August and rain-spattered streets
Pavement I've pedaled down many dozens of times. Maybe 100 times.
Suddenly drenched in a nostalgia I cannot shake, a beauty I never noticed.
I struggle because I want to remember all of it -
The way the trees pinstripe the sunlight,
The tear-soaked plummet to the Bay.
I find it hard to breathe because I'm descending
Something I'll never again climb.
Wavering against the cow parsnip,
I strain to memorize the musty sweet smell in the explosive umbrellas
Unable to forget how each one looks at 10-below
Encapsulated in ice
As if locked inside eternity.
I find comfort in the idea that nothing stays the same.
I may never return.
But I'll never leave, entirely.
When you hear from me again, I'll no longer be a Homer in Homer.
I'll be a Jill in Juneau.