It can only be described as a ride between worlds. Traveling through a strange light, between the sun and the moon...into a dream. There is a strong magic that pulls me into this time of day and had I the choice, I would never leave it. I could have ridden down that enchanted path until the end of time...or at least until my legs gave out. Daryll and I, our bikes, the breeze and scent of the first flowers of summer. Evening sunlight and petals scattered across the path, shining like silver...all a part of some non-reality. The faeries are here, I'm sure of it. As we came to those places where the asphalt seemed to glow with a softness that just couldn't exist on this plane and the golden-red light of an intoxicated sun set the grass and trees aglow, I wondered if this is what the journey into after-life looks like. Maybe if I peddled faster, I would catch up to George quietly strolling along in this realm of peace...this summerland. Do you get bikes to ride after you die? Perhaps it is better to stroll. I wonder if the asphalt is softer on the other side so his feet don't blister. Yes, George...I hope you get to walk paths such as this. I know you are gone, but you are welcome to come along with me any time.
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