It snowed over the weekend here in Boston. Three inches. I am not at all displeased at missing the season's first snowfall. In fact, cold is my nemesis and I do not relish the upcoming months.

Today, however, was quite balmy and pleasant. T-shirt weather. Just right for enjoying my newly-resurrected bicycle.

I took it apart in midsummer to deal with my busted pedals and bottom bracket, and also to re-paint the thing. My previous paint-job (yellow frame with black bubbles emanating outward from the joints) was wearing down and the frame was starting to rust. So I stripped it clean and repainted it with epoxy enamel. Supposedly you should get it blasted in a bead cabinet and painted in an autobody shop, but I doubt they would be willing to accomodate my masking requests, so I did it myself. Now it's a sleek, monochrome frame, black with white dragons. I also completely replaced the guts of it - cranks, bottom bracket, chain, chain ring, freewheel. It's a completely reborn bicycle. In hindsight perhaps I should have painted a tai on it rather than a lung.

I think I am one of those people who has always felt limited by the constraints of my physical body. This is a natural human tendency. The spirit wants absolute freedom of motion; this, the reason the Ford Mustang has been selling well for so many years. I feel this urge acutely. If I found a djinn in a bottle and it granted me one wish, I'd have to struggle to answer what that would be. But if it were three wishes, then the first, no question, would be for flight.

On a bicycle, sometimes you can fly, a little bit.