Ah, looks like Spring’s here, bright blue skies and a bit of warmth, it may be another false start but it sure is welcome. The warmth carrying an edge of freshness, the ground still containing winter, as soon as the sun disappears you can feel the chill.
Burbling along on the motorcycle, surveying the scene like a king. Blossoms on the trees, clouds scudding across the sky. A cheeky Mercedes overtaking, be my guest pal, too much in harmony with things to get involved.
In fact, feeling utterly unencumbered. A good word. As used by the Russian oligarch, imprisoned for taking an interest in politics, stripped of his billions, an interviewer asking, how’s it going, answer, feels good to be unencumbered of all that wealth. Doubtless the translator’s choice of word, nevertheless, hits the spot.
Unencumbrance being the characteristic mental mode of motorcycling. The ride with the sky and the road and the view being the sole things of import. The challenge and reward being to strip from your mind any but those. Available to affluent and impoverished alike, wealth having no relevance other than the need to stay clear of the thought of it. An encumbrance easily shed whilst riding.
Spits of rain on the visor, unnoticed but for the necessity of wiping them off. April with her showers sweet. The rain fragrance suddenly filling the air. Oh look, a rainbow. The road surface still dry. The motorcycle forging forward regardless.
Another aspect of unencumbrance, you notice this sort of stuff, you’re exposed to it on a motorcycle. Amongst money’s treacherous seductions, a relentless tendency to insulate, against rain or heat or cold, essentially, an insulation against the world.
Roadworks ahead, miles of stationary traffic, the motorcycle steadily wending through. In the stuck cars, air conditioning and dead facial expressions. Luxury a useless stratagem for dealing with the actual problem before them, the necessity of moving. A bit less luxury, a bit more functionality, in short a motorcycle, could come in handy.
Quickly through the jam, ahead, the endless road and swirling sky.
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