This is a photo of a perfect place for a biker of very little brain (and less muscle) like myself to stop along my standard bike path route. It tends to be around the mid-way point of my ride, so I’d be likely to come to a halt anyway, whether I wanted to or not.
The body of water is called both Heart Pond (for its shape) and Baptist Pond (for the old practice of baptizing therein). Beyond my reasoning, there seems to be some obscure venerable zoning decree in this ‘burb that requires lakes and ponds to support two different names at once, whereas one serves the purpose well enough for most towns.
This affords me everything I could possible desire in a thotful/rest stop:
- A rock at perfect sitting height.
- Shade to help bring the body temperature down. (Crucial for MS folks.)
- A view to inspire meditation on the love and creativity of my heavenly Father.
- A setting suitable for peaceful and far-ranging excursions of the imagination.
- Cavorting children and families to admire and pray for.
- Other bikers to meet and greet.
- Nothing to rush me on.
- Port-a-potties. (Don’t discount the mundane. Even poets have to pee.)
What else could an exhausted cyclist hope for?
Maybe a sag wagon.