Tears ran down my face this morning. I let them flow instead of blinking them back and keeping them at bay like I do when I'm watching a chick flick.
They were not tears of joy from the freedom riding a bicycle gives me or from the exhiliration I felt while ripping down Post Street hill. It was 35 degrees this morning and the cold air flowing into my eyes makes them tear up.
Every time I turned westward the rising sun shining into my helmet-mounted mirror blinded my left eye, forcing the tear ducts to respond. On the outside I was crying like a baby. On the inside I was happy as a clam at high water.
I passed on today's road find. Although it may have stemmed the flow of many tears, no doubt the five second rule was long since violated.*
*Updated with an idea from Kathy about tying the road find to my tears. I'm married to a smart woman.
Two Days in Paris
2 days ago