Yesterday was my first day back riding my bike to school. I thought it was going to majorly suck, but it was wonderful. There's something immensely satisfying about carrying everything you will need in a day (food, drinks, toiletries, clothes, books, pens, etc) on your back or in a pack and getting where you need to go, without spending a dime. Without having to deal with rush-hour traffic. A lot of joy comes from that last point; a lot also comes from pulling off that magnitude of organization. It takes a lot of planning, but, again, the rewards are great. to me, anyways.
Last night as I was riding home, the weather turned really spooky; clouds hung very low, and the military planes doing their nightly runs looked like giant trucks, with two large headlights, silently gliding through the fog. It was very startling. The planes all bank to the right, one after another, at the same predetermined spot, and the turn causes one of those headlights to disappear. At this point, with their now-single spotlight angled down towards the ground, they look straight from War of the Worlds, which I'm not ashamed to admit really creeped me out (till the ending of course).
What made it even more creepy was the groundlight reflected intermittently in the low clouds. No one in my subdivision has really tall trees, so as I rode in I could see almost all of the night sky. The horizon all around the subdivision was a deep, inky blue, which lightened to a gray-blue just above, like a dark-rimmed bowl. And this was at 9pm. Then, to the west, a long streak of white cloud, brightly illuminated from below, cut through the bowl like a wispy porcelain crack. It was very strange.
