It’s Time That You Won

Yesterday I went for my equivalent of a Sunday drive, on my bicycle of course. I decidedto ride to the west end of the Ranch just to sort of check things out and get some exercise while listening to a random shuffle on my iPod.

Spring has arrived, and with it, orange poppies on sun-washed slopes, bursts of purple lupine, and pink and white milk maids – dentaria californica; I looked it up – frosting a certain meadow like a light dusting of new snow. At the old Ranch house, the wisteria is in dreamy bloom by the windows, and in the back, there is a gathering of calla lilies as elegant as bone china.

My play list was incongruous; my ears were filled with a curious hodgepodge of songs, and many brought back memories of other times and places, but even the sad ones couldn’t get to me, because here I was, after all, and everything else was long ago.

One line, though, (from Glen Hansard’s “Falling Slowly”) seemed to linger in the air and speak especially to me:

You have suffered enough

at war with yourself;

It’s time that you won.

I grabbed onto that and decided it was my theme. I pedaled on into the morning.

One would expect to see a lot of people on such a beautiful day, but the road was deserted, maybe because the surf was only so-so, not that I’m qualified to judge.  

Three women were out walking, and I stopped to say hello to one of them. Martina was her name; the two young blondes were her daughters. We chatted a bit, and then, as though confiding some embarrassing secret, Martina said that she wasn't a beach person and didn’t like to go in the water -- can you imagine that?  She mostly just liked hiking.

Earlier, I had glimpsed Monte’s brother going by with a surfboard on his car, and now here he was again, not wet, but happy enough. He asked me how I was doing and I admitted that riding my bike up and down these hills was a lot harder than it used to be.

“Well, we’re all getting older,” he said. “In fact, I decided I just felt like looking around today, maybe taking a walk. I haven’t done that in such a long time! Not everything has to be a challenge.”

“Makes sense to me,” I said.

I pedaled over to a redwood table on the bluff and ate an orange. I was still thinking that it’s time that I won, and how I'd show myself some kindness and take my own side, and it felt pretty good.