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Life from above

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Mother Nature seems to be throwing a lot at me these days.

And I don’t mean the weather.

I’m not talking about the constant threat of rain, the wild temperature swings or the relentless wind. And I’m not talking about the boulder-sized pollen chunks she’s chucking at my tear ducts and sinuses.

I’m talking about mom literally throwing all sorts of detritus at me as I’m riding around.

A couple of weeks ago, it was a blizzard of bradford pear blossoms. I recall one memorable ride not far from home where, for more than a block, the blossoms were falling like snow. Beautiful.

About the same time, I found myself dodging forsythia flowers. This year they seemed especially plentiful, and they stuck around long enough — most years, the bushes at my house, at least, seem to pop one day, then a massive storm rolls in and strips ’em clean after what seems like mere hours — they seemed to take flight en masse.

During one particularly windy ride awhile back, I found myself all a-swirl in a motley maelstrom of white (bradford pear), yellow (forsythia) and pink (redbud blossoms, perhaps?). It was a lovely whirling dervish.

Most recently, I’ve been besieged by those little “helicopter” maple seeds. Again, it seems like a bumper year.

Riding home for dinner the other day, I found myself in a scene straight out of “Apocalypse Now,” except, of course, this wasn’t death from above, but life from above. I did provide the “Ride of the Valkyries” soundtrack in my head as the seeds whirled about.

As an aside, I’ve learned the maple seeds — if you hit the seed part just right — emit a neat little POP underwheel. Rides through certain mapley neighborhoods can produce a satisfying pop-pop-pop like riding over bubble wrap.

The other overhead menace these days comes in the form of those little, fuzzy green “worms” shed by trees. I have no idea the source, but I find them bunched up around my brakes and looking like curb feelers. Their decent is much less dramatic, but they sure mess up the roads.

Lest anyone think I’m complaining, rest assured I’m not.

Aside from the occasional pear blossom I’ve ingested, I rather like riding through the trees’ birds and bees.

It sure beats riding through some of the other things Mother Nature could throw my way.

Comments

gsxr600 5 years, 1 month ago

Bradford Pear trees = gagging and throwing up from that smell

Ken Lassman 5 years, 1 month ago

Don't forget the elm seeds, which are called "samara" Like the maple samara, it's been a bumper year for them, and they're ripening right now, turning many elms almost brown from the profusion of seeds. They'll get so thick on the street that they'll get positively hazardous, particularly on a turn.

Enjoy!

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