Sunny Sunday, early afternoon, chores finished (sort of), bike screaming at me. Stop! I hear You! Grab photographic devices, off we go, off to river. Find dirt trails, green grass, bike tracks, soft dirt, bare trees, glimmering water. Past Hobo camps, fallen trees, railroad trestles and graffiti. Pass dogs’ seemingly intent on murder – pedal hard. Homeless man without teeth to bare grins wildly at the sky like something is coming for him. Bike glides silently toward an unknown realm where there is no city, no filth, no goal. Only to be a bike.