This morning it was fucking perfect. Cloudless, sun so bright it makes everything look gilded and beautiful. Just the right blend of heat and humidity. The back of your neck gets hot, but right at the point where it might become too hot, a nice breeze tickles you there and sets it all to right.

So I stopped on the bridge between Cambridge and Boston as I was biking across, naturally. I saw two things that interested me.

One was a pair of ducks: mallard chasing a prospective mate. I've never seen a female duck that doesn't play hard-to-get. Also, ducks have this incredibly odd habit of sticking their butts up in the air and shaking their tail-feathers dry. EARTH TO DUCKS: YOU ARE IN THE WATER. YOU'RE JUST GOING TO GET WET AGAIN.

Two was some sidewalk art. See, a few years ago, some anonymous vandals whom I definitely don't know tagged that bridge with anti-war graffiti. The following day the frat boys who possessively maintain the sanctity of the bridge painted over it with flat white house-paint. Crumb! But, add a little time and everything turns out good: it seems that house-paint+spray-paint has a slightly lower rate of erosion than just house-paint. So, this morning, I can once more read "War is terrorism" on the sidewalk. Ghost of graffiti past.

That is all.