Crushing

I’ve been hankering for a decent bike ride, preferably on a paved trail with some foliage to be enjoyed, for a couple of weeks. My plan to make that happen last week was thwarted by a midday doctor appointment, so I penciled in Sunday instead. The forecast was for a gorgeous early fall day and I was excited.

Despite a really busy night at the door of Nicole’s the night before, and an ab focused, hour long hot (101° by the end of practice!) yoga class in the morning, I hopped on my bicycle in the early afternoon. After a quick stop at Stewart’s to add air to my tires, I headed for the Empire Bike Trail.

Six miles later, now on the east side of the Hudson, I pulled onto the bike path. Although I now found myself on the protected, paved path, the scenery was yet to be pretty. Instead, it was commercial, residential and industrial properties on either side with the sound of the traffic in the distance.

After about 12 miles, that all changed. I began to really smell the dry leaves and cut grass and see trees sporting shades of red and yellow lining my route. The sky was cloudless and the air was warm, but not unbearably hot. Teeny black gnats freckled my arms, stuck to my flesh by the stickiness of sunscreen. Every so often, I ran my hands down one arm than the other to wipe them off, removing the sunscreen and bugs simultaneously.

I rode on.

When I reached Nassau, I climbed off my bike and grabbed my phone to check the train schedule in Hudson. I had an urge to keep riding until I reached the Amtrak station with hopes of boarding with my bike for the ride home. Unfortunately the timing of the available trains didn’t work for me, one being too soon, the other too late. I would have to turn around and head back towards home.

But, first a bathroom and a malt. I rode to my second Stewart’s of the day and placed my order.

Rejuvenated, I returned to the bike path and rode northwest. I spied a woodchuck, low to the ground with his head lifted to return my stare. Chipmunks chattered and dashed, their striped bodies combining the colors of decaying leaves into the perfect coat of camouflage.

This part of the ride was pure joy. On my way southeast earlier, I hadn’t registered the increasing elevation on the trail but, in this direction, I found myself coasting. As always, I kept my right index finger hovering above the rear brake. I don’t like to go too fast – even with my helmet firmly in place.

Suddenly, a squirrel darted in my path from the right. I squeezed the brake firmly enough to feel my rear tire slide a bit. I shouted and the squirrel reversed course. I eased up on the brake as the squirrel simultaneously committed to crossing in front of my wheels.

I screamed and closed my eyes for an instant

Thump.

Thump.

I chose to keep going.

After about a mile I dared to look down, my eyes searching for blood on my bike frame. None. I passed a couple of people traveling in the direction from which I had just come, and considered stopping and asking them to look for an injured animal feeling incredibly guilty that I abandoned a potentially seriously injured animal. I recalled a time many, many years ago when a friend and I were driving in his pickup truck and came upon a deer on the side of the road. It had been hit by a car, but wasn’t yet dead. My friend pulled over and grabbed a sledge hammer from the bed of the truck.

His merciful action was final in a way similar to the self inflicted gunshot months later that ended his life.

After another 5 miles or so, I began to once again enjoy the ride. The sun continued to shine and the air was warm on my exposed skin. The views were beautiful and my body’s willingness to propel itself nearly 40 miles was gratifying.

I know that I did everything I could to avoid hitting that animal. Despite that knowledge, I was deeply saddened. In a world filled with pointless and often casual violence, the harm I caused to this animal will remain with me.

On Monday morning, not even a day later, a house fire less than a mile from where I live took 5 lives. Three young children, under the age of 6, and two adults were lost. After hearing the news, I found myself thinking about these people whom I never knew. How did this tragedy happen? How did the world allow this to occur?

My heart felt heavy with the randomness of death. I considered those who loved these recently deceased humans and the pain they must be experiencing, the moments they had shared and the countless moments never to be. I imagined the thoughts of what could have been done to prevent this horrific event, how these lives might have been saved.

There are so many accidental and unintentional ways to die.

Then, just yesterday, I saw this reel:

Running over a squirrel was unfortunate and sad. I hope that, if it was the end, death came quickly.

5 family members dying in a fire is heartbreakingly tragic. I hope their families find peace and the ability to move forward with their memories as a comfort.

Our government facilitating the deaths of tens of thousands of children in Gaza is immoral and unforgivable. There is no excusing the support the U.S. has provided to Netanyahu and Israel and I hope there is an eventual punishing consequence for every person who has facilitated these executions.

This world is crushing me.