We’re the heirs to the glimmering world…
I’ve just cycled home from work but in a completely different direction to that which I usually do. Tonight Dublin felt different. Quiet and mine. For just a moment.
A fox ran across my path and looked as shocked as I did. A heron stood proud. Calm as calm can be. Not a bother on him.
I smiled thinking of the re-emergence of Joe Higgins. Great slogan, “the best fighter money can’t buy”. Good luck to him.
I chortled thinking of the demise of Declan Ganley. Good riddance to him and his croneys.
I thought of people I know in Setanta who are facing troubling times, people like Radge. I wish them all the luck in the world.
I thought of my own situation. There’s every chance I won’t have a job by year end.
I thought of what else I might do. I’m convincing myself the world will still turn and things will turn around eventually. They will. We’ll get away with it. We always do.
I thought of my brother who tells me it could well be the best thing that ever happens to me. I admire his optimism. I live in hope.
I cycled home. And it felt good.
You blow out candles, you kindle fires…
Yes you may well blow the answer. And you may very well bring change. But you left me with enough grit in my eyes to fill a pothole. And you damn near flung me off the East Link Bridge.
See today I cycled to work against your wall of wind. A wall of wind I tell you! It made every pedal an epic, blustery struggle. Moreso you made me late and flustered me up.
I love you wind, but damn you can be so stubborn sometimes. And like Charlie with the mega beard, I don’t think I’ll ever know what colour you are.
Last Night…
Over at OutsideIn recently, in a post entitled Charlie and the Good Samaritans, Bryan recounted his experiences on the M4 motorway when a number of people went out of their way to offer assistance after his car had broken down. In the comments section I was sceptical about humanity, having encountered the opposite experience when I had suffered a fall from grace my bike near the Point Depot (I just can’t call it the O2!). And that was despite my spectacular Chuck Norris / Van Damme style dismount! You had to be there.
Anyway I am delighted to announce that that very scepticism was washed away last night. I was cycling home at about 9pm. I had left my hi-visibility jacket at home (it’s a long story) and only had one light working (the rear red one). As I cycled along a quiet Clontarf street an oncoming motorist flashed his headlights in my direction. As he pulled into his driveway he rolled down his window and said “will you get some lights, I could hardly see you”. Now I fully agree with him re: lights. Especially now the evenings creep in and darkness reigns a lot earlier. But it’s not what he said, it’s how he said it. It was in no way patronising. In fact there was a great deal of compassion in his voice, he genuinely cared for my safety. So I cycled the rest of the way home delighted that a stranger had such concern for this unknown cyclist on an Autumn evening. And I made a vow to make myself more visible at night on the road. We all should.
