... it's what I'd rather be doing.
|Image via queen of constance|
Peri's in the garage, just waiting for me to take her for a ride. Peri's my bike. Short for periwinkle. Because she is.
I've named my bikes since I was a little thing and read a book called "Belinda the Beetle." Belinda was a car and naturally, the mode of transportation I owned at the time was bestowed with the same title. It broke my heart when I outgrew her and had to give her to someone else, but I did. And I got a beautiful green bike whom I named Adrena. Short for adrenaline. But she was a mountain bike, wild and free and too rough for me most of the time, yet I had her for many years. Unbeknownst to me, she was sold and replaced with a shining, winking, purely periwinkle cruiser like the one pictured above.
Peri's only been ridden a couple of times since I got her, and so she sits in the garage... waiting to be brought out into the sunshine, a basket on her hip (I've got to get one of those) and a gleam in her eye, ready to take on a road or two.
As summer draws nigh, I hope to polish her up and take her out. I've always loved my bikes. But my last long bike ride ended up with two young fellows arguing about who was going to have to carry me home... several miles. It ended by my conjuring enough sheer will-power to simply make it home and there I collapsed on the concrete walk. In front of all. Utterly spent. Not something I'd like to repeat too soon. Which is why I wait... gain my energy... take it slow. And then Peri and I will ride... with the breeze in my hair and the sun on my back, I'll soar from place to place!
There's a certain charm about a bike, isn't there?