Tuesday, January 10, 2012

pedaling together




we flew off the boardwalk traveling toward the world's edge.  traveling fast.  traveling free.  traveling at no less than the speed of light.  or at least at the speed of two tandem bicycles and a single bike with a baby seat.  it seemed faster than five children and their out of shape mother should go.  but the winter sky was wide open and the water was wide wonderful and it was all there before us:  a new morning on a new beach.  new things to discover.  and the six of us were soon breathless; dripping in laughter, pedaling hard, pedaling together. 


down the beach we went -- sun on our faces and the breeze at our  backs.  so much early energy burning off our sun-warmed heads.  we went and we went. miles away, it seemed, and still we pedaled.   there were things to see and stops to make.  horseshoe crabs and sea-battered clams and blue crab claws scattered.  we stopped and started bicycles at least a million times.  our bikes cutting crystal into blue as we careened down the shoreline.  sand flying, surf spraying, and me calling my mother things.  “stay to the right” and “watch where you’re going!” we were pushed on by something more than our furious pedaling.  is there anything quite like exploring with eager children? "these are the very moments of motherhood," i thought to myself.  and i laughed as beach walkers quickly parted allowing my four bike wobbly children plenty of room. bella and i trailed behind on our more sedate baby-seated bike, throwing out smiles and, when necessary, “i’m sorrys” to the same pedestrians we passed.
another stop.  another something to pick from the sand and bring to my basket.  “mom, look at this shell, i can just imagine a pearl in it.”  and she could.  i could too.  today was a day to imagine pearls.  today was a pearl.  today, under this wild blue above, we held treasure in our hands.  


i turned to look how far we had traveled in our speed of light and was surprised.  “we should head back,” i told the kids.  “oh mom, really? not yet. just a little bit further?”  but they turned their tandem bikes around and took off again back from where we came.  but back wasn’t quite so easy.  the wind was now in our faces,  leaning strong against us.  the sun in our eyes, not warming, but blinding.  and our legs, of course,  tired from pumping this far.  i could see the exhausted sway of their bikes.  hard pedaling, heavy breathing.  losing steam with every tire’s rotation.  how far we had come in such a short time. the laughter evaporated into the winter sky and the bickering began.  my four children on two tandem bicycles.  even from my distance behind, i could hear the sharper edge to their words now.  “pedal harder already, will you?”  and “you’re going to make us crash if you keep leaning. pedal!”   tandem bikes take cooperation. and sometimes it is hard to cooperate when circumstances shift. 


and isn't life an awful lot like a bike ride.  sometimes we fly down the shoreline with incredible speed and indescribable energy. nothing to stop us. the sun warm, the sky big and our hope great.  it is easy.  and it is easy to be delightful in the wonderful delight of it all.  but there are other times when we must turn.  go a different direction and that same wind which propelled us now pushes hard against us.  the bright sun blinding.  and these are the times when our pedaling really counts. when our efforts really matter. these are the times when we truly must work in tandem, work as a team.  


a winter beach.  
a wild bike ride.  
and a reminder to pedal.
to pedal fast.
to pedal hard. 
but mostly, to pedal together.  




1 comment:

Aus said...

Bike rides on a winter beach - far removed from a walk in the winter woods - but really that far? ;)

Cooperation - oh how this post brings back memories...I'm the youngest of four - but two big brothers are gone some many years now, Bill and Hank were about 18 months apart born in '38 and '40...

And as brothers would do from time to time - they would fight and fuss and worry each other to death...

But Dad - he was a good man - had a lesson...

I remember a log - from my 'kids eye view' it was BIG - really probablly on 18 or so inches wide, and it was always sitting on two old wooden saw horses in the back yard - always there as I remember...

And when the brothers would fight then Dad would make them go to the shed for "the saw" - an old fashioned two man saw - and the brothers were to cut a 1 inch slice off 'the log'. And at first they would fight each other - but by the end would know that the only way to get done with their "punishment" would be to saw together...

That house and log are long gone from my life...

But the saw - it still hangs in my garage as the reminder...

My Dad didn't talk much but he spoke clearly...

Thanks for reminding me...

hugs - aus and co.