On a bicycle at night

The strange beauty of life comes to me as I ride my bike, half drunk with the stars over and around me and the moon and the earth and I feel that intense love of being. It swells my heart and I pedal harder, faster to relieve the almost painful feeling. To feel it is one thing, what to do with it is something else.

Harder and faster, my breath deepens as I attempt a tall hill. I smile at this friend I love to hate, I welcome its challenge. When I'm done I coast for a while, feeling the crisp air cool my sweaty skin, calm my panting, ruffle my hair. The bike begins to slow and I don't try for the pedals, just let it be until at last we are at a crawl, the bike and I, and together we fall sideways onto a lawn in a tangle and I just lie there, feeling the prickling grass on my back and neck below me, feeling the glow of the moon on my closed eyelids.

"Are you alright?"

There is a youngish woman standing over me, she also has a bicycle.

"I saw you fall off your bike...do you need help?"

I smile and shake my head. She considers this, then looks up at the sky. Then back to me. Another moment and without a word she's set her bike down, she's laying next to me and we stay that way on the grass, just being.

This strange beauty of life.