Earlier today I stood out on my back porch and listened to the symphony of nature. The snow was falling softly around me, thick enough to muffle the sounds of cars one street over yet landing delicately on my face. Accross the street to my right was the tinkling and plonking of water trying to run into a drain hole blocked with debris, while direcly in front of me at the end of our driveway the water flowed like a brook into a drain we unclogged a few days earlier. To my left was the steady drip, drip, drip of snow melting off the roof of the garage and behind me a more steady drip, like a back-beat bringing all the sounds together.
I looked and listened and absorbed the beauty for a few moments before thinking, ‘for crying out loud, we’re never getting the bike out at this rate’.
A friend, Mark reminded me today that there are only one-hundred and eleven days left before our ‘Route 66 Trip’, I better start writing about that before it’s already over! Last night the group of sixteen got together for a planning meeting, which basically means we got together, consumed copius amounts of food and alcohol, and Georgio handed out our very detailed itinerary books that I’m sure must have been as much work as a full-time job to pull together. Thank you Georgio! We have detailed day by day mapped routes with must see sights and accomodations all planned out. There are sixteen people, eight motorcycles and one car, I’m driving the car.
The music of Spring is lovely, but I can’t wait to hear the roar of the Harley! 🙂