This “sky cross” greeted us yesterday morning as we sat on our front porch discussing the planned Harley ride to Backbone State Park in the afternoon. Touring on the paths cut through the 2,000 acres forested predominately with oak and maple trees is a biker’s delight. Throw temps of 80+ degrees into the mix, and there is no reason whatsoever to stay home on such a Sunday. Read whatever you want into it, but I think the Universe was giving us the thumbs-up.
If you’ve never been inside Backbone Park, you are neglecting yourself. The park gets its name from a narrow ridge of dolomite and limestone deposits—“the Devil’s Backbone”—but there wasn’t a trace of evil within.
We exchanged the “biker wave” with dozens of other riders as we wound our way through the park. For those of you who don’t know about “the wave,” it is accomplished with the left hand down, off of the handlebar and out. You don’t even have to smile. That wave does it for you.
My husband does the driving; I get to sit on the back and watch people and the sites to the full extent.
I liked what I saw in the park yesterday: people sitting around campfires talking to each other, not on cell phones, but to each other. (I notice stuff like this!) Even better yet, I can’t tell you how many people I saw sitting off in the trees by themselves with books in their hands. Real books—not iPads. Not Kindles. Not Sony Readers. Not Barnes and Noble Nooks. Real books with front and back covers. I don’t have anything against the new electronic readers at all, but I still like paper-paged books. It was good to see so many others who do too.
Adults threw Frisbees back and forth while little black and white dogs napped underneath picnic tables, and digital camera batteries were getting a workout trying to capture autumnal moments.
It isn’t possible to put any sort of frame around this brand of “church.”