A Sunday Ride
We ride our bikes along the old tractor paths through the fields of wheat, a gentle breeze blowing the grain in mesmerizing patterns. The way is covered with stones and ruts and sand making it a strenuous trek even for a mountain bike. Despite the effort I force myself to enjoy my surroundings, I look up and try to absorb it all, not only the golden fields but the tall dark evergreens in the distance and the blue sky beyond. There is no one here except for us. He looks back to check my progress, a little slower these days due to the pregnancy, and I smile at his concern. He stops a moment to check our direction and points out a bee-house on the next rise, breathe through your nose as you ride by as not to inhale one into your mouth, he warns me, I pull my T-shirt up over my nose and breath normally. The forest engulfs us again and the cool shade is refreshing. I search for wildlife among the trees, perhaps a jack-rabbit, deer or a wild-pig, but I see nothing except birds and ...