Saturday, September 8, 2012

One of these things is not like the others.

I got about a mile into my bike ride to the Quarter today and realized that something about it was different from all the other rides I’ve taken in the last five months. Something about this ride was magnificent. I felt good. Really, really good. 

I took one arm (because who rides their bike with no handlebars? Screw you, Flobots, you dirty, dirty liars.) off the handle and pretended that half of my body was flying, because damn this ride was pleasant.

It took me another half mile or so to figure it out. It wasn’t the smell, because everything still smells like rotting timber and spoiled food in the wake of Hurricane Isaac. It wasn’t that I was suddenly in marvelous shape, rendering moot any exertion. 

Then it came to me, in a choral epiphany, straight from Heaven: Why am I not dripping with sweat right now?? Why is the back of my shirt still dry? Why is my makeup intact?
 
It was the temperature. A "cold" front moved through New Orleans last night, and I just hadn’t noticed it because I’d been cooped up in my office all day. But outside, just beyond my sphere of awareness, there was air that was twenty degrees cooler than the air was yesterday and also all of the last few months.

It was only, like, maybe 80 degrees out today, instead of 105. 

And it was more beautiful than riding a unicorn over a triple rainbow.

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