One of the joys of living in the country is the variety of wildlife with which we share our little piece of Eden. And while watching the birds at a feeder a while back it occurred to me that we two-wheelers have a lot in common with our feathered friends.
Being able to fly is a primal urge, seated deeply within each of us. Everyone has dreamed about being able to fly, to soar among the clouds, diving, swooping, and being carried on the wind.
As kids we’d all, at one time or another, play at flying. Whether pretending to be a fighter pilot engaged in mock battle or just a jet-plane taking us to new adventures, we’d tilt and turn, arms outstretched, as we imagined the freedom of flight and the possibilities it offered.
And who can ever forget the feeling of awe looking down at the ground the first time they flew?
So we ride.
It’s the closest we’ll ever get to 3-dimensional travel without actually leaving the earth. Like that kid playing at airplanes, we tilt and lean as we dive into a corner or swoop through a series of twisties. Even flying down a lonely stretch of highway, wind in your face, it’s easy to imagine losing that oh-so-tenuous contact with the ground and simply lifting off the pavement.
It’s a sense of freedom that you just cannot experience on 4 wheels. Which may be why so many drivers seem resentful, even angry, as they see us ride by, realising they are forever solidly attached to terra firma in their minds, and their lives.