Yesterday, I could feel the grit and dirt of the city all over me when I finally arrived home after a long day at work. I changed into my favorite old college t-shirt and a comfy pair of worn-in jeans, and then Tiho and I jumped on our bikes and headed for the duck pond.
We rode through the neighborhood and along the bike trail, which borders a large creek and turns off into several small parks and reservations. We encountered a lake we had never seen before and watched a mama duck lead her tiny fuzzy babies into the water for a swim. We passed runners, fellow bikers, power-walkers and strollers. We heard the hum of lawn mowers in the distance and the joyous peals of laughter from children frolicking in backyards. I wondered if they had just eaten their dinner, and then begged their parents for five more minutes of playtime before bed. I remember what 7:30 PM felt like as a kid, especially as the days grew longer and the nights, lighter.
I felt the grime and stress of the day melt away as I pedaled. The air smelled exactly like air should smell: fresh, dewey, pure. I was struck by how happy it made me.