Moving the Soul | by Brent Aikman

Brent in Colorado

“On the occasional Saturday, Hack would pick me up and we would go ride.  Sometimes we would ride with his dad, sometimes not.  But we would go.  We would ride into the mountains of West Virginia.  By that time, I had travelled a number of roads and had seen many parts of the state, but all through a car window.  I was now seeing it from a new perspective and with new sensory input.  The change of temperature in the warm spots of the sun, the cool spots in the hollows.  Light shifting through the trees.  Wonderful smells would sift through the helmet; wildflowers in bloom, horses in the meadow, fresh baked bread, something dead in the ditch, car exhaust, flowing water, fresh air.  I was in the wind, exposed to the elements.  It rained and I got wet.  The temperature dropped as we rode north into higher elevations and I got cold.  The sun burst through the fog and the extra layer I put on to fend off the morning chill was now too much.  Bugs splatted off my helmet, jacket, and boots.  My clothes got covered in road grime and saturated with sweat.  And all I could do was smile.”

via Moving the Soul | by Brent Aikman.

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