Recently I bought a bicycle. I bought the bike because I first considered stealing one, but I have no aptitude for crime. Instead, dutifully, I paid for a lime green contraption, with whitewall tires, and a front basket.
I was under the impression that one could not forget how to ride these things, however, I have almost killed myself several times already. It does not help that fearless cats lie out in the middle of the streets. They lie on their sides, heads cocked, and stare at you as you perform wobbly maneuvers around them.
But a bicycle is the best way to get around when the streets flood.
September is the rainy season, and tropical rains are symphonic. In moments, a storm can switch the sky from pristine, to a purple, velvet, padded look. Et puis, the deluge. In an instant, streets are submerged, sidewalks immersed. Whole coconuts bob in gutters turned to rivers, like kids on water-slides.
It is customary in Key West to ride on the sidewalks. I found this spectacularly annoying so long as I was a pedestrian. Now that I am a cyclist I see the merits. Primarily, that one is out of the reach of motorists.
However, Key West sidewalks are treacherous. They are irregularly dotted with lampposts, palm trees, and one time, a man sleeping on a low cot. Not to mention, the spectacularly annoying pedestrians. It does not help that these sidewalks, made of concrete slabs, occasionally pitch, like buck-teeth, from Jurassic tree roots.
Often there is jungle foliage drooping over the sidewalks, reducing the space to an ever narrowing, green tunnel. Tight enough to crash into, if one was not used to being on a bicycle. I have crashed a couple of times, spiky fronds leave marks like cat’s claws.
As quickly as the storms come, they depart. Sunshine infiltrates and rainbows pop out, birds chirrup. The air turns steamy and fills with dense, loamy, flower smells. On my bike I glide through the heavy puddles, and inspect the drenched town. Steam rises. Roosters bark out their mad song. Cats are everywhere, on car roofs, on porch railings. With only the merest curiosity they watch my unsteady approach, on my green bicycle, flicking muddy water, and still they do not even twitch an ear. Cool cats.
(Laughing) perfect. I see it all; I do ride with you through every description that I thought belonged only to me and my imagination. You be truth’s twin and I be glad to meet you.
Tonny
My favorite of the KW writings. Painted the perfect picture completely with all senses engaged. Thank you Miss Christina!
PS I just got my first new bicycle since 1972! The saying is completely false! You’re right! I went down the road less traveled simply because I haven’t learned how to turn right without Tumping over (that’s Dixie for ‘tipping/falling” combo) .
And they are not just any cats…some could actually have 6 toes, one more toe on each foot, to fend off human contraptions on two wheels…Did anyone count the extra toe?…Cool cats playing with a wheel, a nature’s perfect shape, made by an imperfect being…A downpour frees all this and brings the elements into play. Breeze, sun, water and the wet foilage…Palm trees swaying in the wind and the air, I can feel and smell as if I were there…even a likely ‘bad hair day.’ If you can feel the weather, it’s real…and we do…A neat little story from a bike…
Love: “They lie on their sides, heads cocked, and stare at you as you perform wobbly maneuvers around them.” I feel like this every day!
Still remember my first encounter with palm fronds on a bicycle….those narrow green tips appear so lush while gently blowing in the breeze. On a narrow sidewalk, I turned my face upward to welcome their soft embrace as I pedaled beneath. The swift sting was such a shock! I am now excellent at ducking….and as always, dodging kitties.
SUBLIME!!! I just adore reading Christina Oxenberg…I feel such an affinity for her!!!xm