So, sometimes slower is better. Especially with an early start. Rolling out the door to sense the morning peace, is like straining eyes to see over the next ridge. A breeze only just beginning to stir. Geese honking overhead, descending through a grey sky to a pond of grey water. The bicycle glides at a perfect pace with morning unfolding before it.
But there is also arriving. Because a place gives wandering purpose. A place nearby is like a neighbor. And a place set aside, is like a listening friend. How sad to travel for distance sake and pass him on the way.