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13 Lime Green Lycra Birds twittered up a storm in the overcast morning. We heard yelling and honking on the road below. Sharon looked over the bank and saw streams of cyclists out for a Sunday ride. Many older fellas, out on their featherweight machines, attired in neon plumage looked like peacocks trying to attract peahens. Somehow--no matter how hard I tried--I couldn't picture Sharon's dad in tight neon-pink lycra. Sharon made toast by slicing a huge loaf of bread, then baked it on both sides in the frying pan. We spread on apricot jam and it tasted like the real thing--it even crunched like toast. Sharon's cooking ideas never failed to amaze me. We had a secluded spot on a steep sidehill road. I didn't think we would be discovered by anyone casually driving by. It was overcast and looked miserable, so we decided to hunker down for an inside day. We read, slept and wrote in our journals. Sometime in the afternoon a four by four vehicle groaned by. Always someone had to prove me wrong. And the day turned out beautiful. I learned you couldn't always judge a day by its morning. |
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