All your mass migrating, sun setting, steamrolling, samba cicada, drug smuggling, tank road, tire hissing, good karma has worn me down.
My normal Metrowest exercise ride has been the same old route over Dover's Strawberry, Pine and Claybrook roads. Nothing wrong with these roads, they are a privilege to ride; it's just that other than errands, it's all I've been riding.
The texture of the "humidity" and my lack of energy made me pleased just to get out on the bike. No fantasies of Tour de France or Wells Avenue today.
Two fox raced across the road ahead of me just before Claybrook and induced maybe 2 seconds of appreciation of where we ride.
Ten miles later I rode passed a broken Nantucket Nectar bottle and MacD trash and grumbled about humans and the bell curve location of those that break glass and litter roads. 200 meters after the glass your karma and sunset talk wore on my anti-social self. I went back, picked up the glass, cut my finger, reveled in grumbling about humans again and then slowed even more and picked up a couple of more pieces of trash.
I've no idea if a very small and very rare good deed makes any difference but I do appreciate where we ride.