Bike Ride Through the Ocean

“Bike Ride Through the Ocean”1

        Back one day when I was younger and the lines between reality and fantasy weren’t so rigid; back in the days of army men and spacemen and cartoons and aliens; back in the day where my one responsibility was to have fun, I went on a bike ride with my best friend. 2

        It was a clear summer day with a few friendly clouds lazily drifting by like the manatees of the ocean.  We (my best friend and I) got dressed quickly and then had the breakfast fit for a king – Cocoa Pebbles.  We drank orange juice, not milk (easier on the stomach when one is active).  A bottle of ice with some water was carefully prepared for us by my mother and we hurried out the door.  The ocean above our heads was still clear and beckoning us to dive deep.  3

       So we began to pedal.  We started our way up a big hill to begin and just as my legs were starting to hurt we went over.  In that instant we exploded into the sun and flew out into the air.  We glided down the road without a care in the world.  The ground below us was the ocean we were soaring across.  Sparrows flew over our heads like seagulls scouring the waters for food.  Surely not even the splendor of Solomon could  have made us half as happy as we were in that moment.4

       As we leveled out we began a steady pedaling, keeping our speed up.  Like the stingrays we continued to dart across the universe of water.5

       We soon began to grow tired, the salt water sky drowning our lungs in big, gasping breaths.  We pulled off the road and anchored ourselves on some kelped-green grass.  The life-oceaned streets around us grew still.  A small, simple butterfly fluttered upon me, nervously jumping here to there.  I stood up to stretch when I saw the butterfly again like a seahorse swimming gracefully.  The sun shattered its wings into bright fluorescents shimmering through the sky and cutting through the ocean. I felt a calm envelope me as the seahorse danced back into the waters.  The smell of freshly mowed grass floated up to me.  I grew restless- and dry.  6

       So once again we donned our bikes and our fins and continued onward.  The manatees in the sky grew larger and larger until big, black clouds whaled their way into the sky.  Thunder rumbled low off in the distance- the whales were speaking to us.  The air became humid and made it hard on our gills, like breathing through a heavy, wet sponge.  We knew what was coming, and we pedaled hard.7

      Just as we were coming closer to home it happened- the ocean and the sky collided into a downpour of cool rain on my already soaked body.  We stopped- lifted our hands above us and laughed.  We laughed and laughed.  We had found freedom on our little summer bike ride; yes, we had found the ocean. 8