I took out my bike for the first time in years today. Well, I'd actually rescued it from my parents' house about a year ago, but I've done nothing with it besides run into it on my way out the door, watch it collect pollen and spiderwebs, and notice the tires become progessively flatter. It was Martin's new bike that inspired me. So today I bought a pump and scrubbed the seat and handlebars, and we took off down the first big hill, discovering that there is a bike path that curiously starts by my house and ends at the farmer's market. There we bought some strawberries, ate nearly all of them five feet from the vendor, and then bought some more. For the first time in ages I felt like I was in the South. Though I have lived in the South most of my life, I often forget where I am, or maybe I surround myself with things that aren't particularly Southern. Anyway, it was good to feel the region. I felt my thighs, too, especially on the way back up that last hill.