now they know how many holes it takes

i have not been riding my bike enough, that is for sure. but who has time? i should, i suppose, but there have been those holidays, and all of these other things, so bicycling has gottn the short end of the time allocation stick. but anyway, magnificent it is, for those brief moments, to climb aboard and roll away from the house, that near-perfect silence of freshly-washed and lubricated drive train, the faintest whine only from the knobby tires, and the ticking of the moist grit as it is thrown onto the inside of the fenders. and above me the relentless dark, the steady procession of clouds, the great diversity of elevations and thicknesses and moisture contents and opacities, united to block out the sun for what seems like several weeks straight now, no clear memory in my mind of the last unbroken stretch of blue sky, the last crow's-feet squinting behind the windshield or right out in it, the rays heading straight into the eyeball, all wavelengths represented, the full spectrum as it were, thank you very much. when? i do not recall.

but i would welcome it again, any time.

so just fur left, and that bone and the strange fragment. who took the deer carcass? i know guys who tie their own trout flies and have a serious interest in squirrel tails and the like, but a deer carcass? it was really just skin and bones, as they say. dragging something like that off is faintly sick, or at least unnecessary. anyway. i have enough weird things to ponder at work today, anyway.

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