feels like fall

Back to work on Monday. This weekend marks the end of my two-week break and the beginning of a new session of classes. And this weekend it truly feels like fall. The morning dawned and proceeded with cloudy skies, a steady wind and no sign that the temperature would make it above 20 degrees. It looked like it might rain, in fact. I wasn't sure about riding... But finally at about 11:30, I set off on Milly, north and uphill to Airport Road.

After turning east, I decided to ride to St. Albert and loop back home along Meadowview Road. The wind was from the southeast, strong and steady, so it was a hard 10 km or so to Hogan Road, where I headed south, also against the wind. As I rode I saw a few flocks of Canada geese, also heading south. Their trip is a little longer than mine. At this time of year, the ponds and lakes around here are thick with migrating geese.

I was happy to make a right turn at Meadowview Road, because this meant I was heading west, with the wind more or less behind me. 

These birds, strung out along the barn roof, demanded a second look. I couldn't tell for sure, but I think they were pigeons. 

This road is scenic, but the pavement is like crazy patchwork -- rough bits, smooth bits, loose gravel and everything in between. I sure hope it's true that riding on rough pavement is good for developing bone mass! 

At Highway 44, I headed south again, into the wind, which was at its worst, with nothing to hinder it. I actually switched into the middle ring for this stretch so I could keep a comfortable cadence. I was not sorry to turn right (west) at the Township Road just north of the Yellowhead. 

When I read about yesterday's Stage 3 of the Tour of Alberta, I was glad to see that the riders commented on the prairie winds. Of course, the Drumheller area gets even stronger winds than we do here, but it was comforting that the pros noticed it and found it an obstacle. (Too bad they won't get to ride down near Lethbridge!)

I had to stop for a photo of these horses:

Until I was in junior high, I used to beg my parents to buy me a horse. They considered it, but because we lived in the city, there was the problem of where to keep it and how to care for it. Our community, although agricultural, wasn't really into horses. By the time I was 13 or 14, I was realistic enough to know it wasn't going to happen. I still rode every chance I got -- when we visited rancher friends near Maple Creek or when we went on holidays to places where trail rides were offered -- and even today my heart beats a little faster when I see horses like this.

After a few kilometers of fast and easy westward riding, I turned south again and headed into town and back home, for a total of 61.5 km. I saw only two other riders, both women, and both riding west on Airport Road. I don't know if they were together or each out on their own, but either way, I am always happy to see other women out riding.

Seeing all the geese today reminded me of a poem I can use for my upcoming afternoon class, where we focus on pronunciation:

Something told the wild geese

Something told the wild geese
It was time to go;
Though the fields lay golden,
Something whispered, - 'snow'.

Leaves were green and stirring,
Berries, luster-glossed,
But beneath warm feathers
Something cautioned, - 'frost'.

All the sagging orchards
Steamed with amber spice,
But each wild breast stiffened
At remembered ice.

Something told the wild geese
It was time to fly -
Summer sun was on their wings,
Winter in their cry.

~ Rachel Lyman Field