“There is nothing permanent except change.” — Heraclitus
Somehow cycling season is drawing to a close. Sure, there are plenty of nice days to ride all year, but the challenge is finding enough daylight to ride safely. I’m more grateful for rail trails as the days get shorter. But there’s something to be said for those favorite routes on narrow country roads on a warm, sunny afternoon. I’ll remember a few rides fondly on those cold and dark winter afternoons.
The obvious thing is that when we spend more time outside, we become more aware of the weather, but also the seasons themselves. A slow turn towards autumn is detectable well before September, a bite to the air in late November will signal a turn towards winter, and so on. Having experienced the seasons, we feel it when there’s a change in the air. Some of us quite literally feel it in our bones. Old injuries become reliable harbingers of a variation from the norm.
We learn to celebrate every season for the change it brings. We may have our favorites, but there’s joy to be found in each. Often it’s just a matter of stepping outside to see what greets us. These are days we’ll remember as the good old days one day. Days when maybe everything seemed so upside down, but still present the gift of people and places in our lives that one day won’t be. We realize over time that a bit of gratitude for whatever season this happens to be in our lives is what changes everything.
