It’s early Saturday morning and with everyone still asleep.   It’s the perfect time for a nice long bike ride.  I hop on my road bike, coast down the driveway, and I’m off.  What follows is a list of what I see while on my ride.

The sun, a bright red ball rising from the horizon.  It quickly disappears into low hanging fog.

A black bear eating nuts in a yard.  He looks up and lumbers off, in search of more to eat.

The ridge high above me still covered in the morning fog.

A farmer starting his tractor.  Looks like a harvest day.

The local market.  I can see the counter already full with old men sharing the new day’s gossip.

Squirrels and chipmunks scurry by in front of me, just making it across the road.

An apple orchard with trees now pregnant with ripe red apples.

A jogger passes me heading the opposite direction.  We exchange greetings and a smile of understanding of the privilege to be out in this early morning.

There are brown and white dairy cows laying under a tree.

I see a cat stalking in the high grass of a field, just waiting to pounce.

A front yard with grass still the bright green of summer now has brown and yellow leaves speckled across it.  The seasons are changing.

I crest a hill and a farm comes into view; red barn, pond, and a golden field.

A dog runs out from a house, barking.  He stops short of the road.

Horses, brown and black, graze in a small field behind a house.

Five goats huddle together near a gate, waiting for breakfast.

A couple sits on their porch, coffee in hand, watching their two dogs play.

The road passes through a forest, trees on either side.

I ride over and around and through acorns, chestnuts, walnuts.

The trees part and I come upon a pond, steam rising from it’s waters.

The final hill of the rides looms ahead of me; I shift and begin the long slow climb.

Another jogger runs by, going downhill as I head up.

Finally at the top of the hill, I look out at the mountains in the distance where I will soon be snowboarding.

Home then comes into view.

Off the bike, I walk in the door.  My 4 year old is there, in jammies and hair still tossled from the night.  “How was your bike ride Mama?”

My bike ride is over.  The day is full, nonstop as always, but I have had this time.  This morning bike ride.  Today was not the most beautiful day, the air was dense and humid and clouds were moving in, but I still feel blessed.  Blessed to have the chance to be on my bike as the world awakens and to observe it all.  Blessed to now have the memory to take with me throughout the day.  My list of this seen.