Extraordinary Day

16. November 2010

Saturday night I stayed up late at Alina and her cousin’s goodbye party. (Alina is the intern at the newspaper who did my interview for the paper…if you want to see the article, let me know and I can send you the link…anyways, we ended up becoming friends after that.). As we made our way groggily out the front door the next morning, we blinked in surprise at the bright, blue sunny sky and fluffy wisps of clouds. It had been rainy for days, but the lack of moisture wasn’t the only difference – it was warm. “What is this? It’s like Spring!” we exclaimed. It was the middle of November, and we were astonished.

The day was so nice that I couldn’t not be outside, so I went out on my bike. (I know, it’s surprising.) The Elbe was calm and deep as I pedaled across the bridge and coasted down the ramp onto the path on the flood plain. Soft gusts of wind purred across the path and filled the sails of several kites floating overhead. “What a day!” I thought vaguely as I let my mind wander and my feet spin. Legs burning, I raced across the level plain and felt as thought I might take off at any moment. Entering the forest, I paused for half a second before pedaling pell-mell down a dappled path to my right, wet leaves making an odd swish-squishing under my whirring wheels. Navigation was slightly trickier through the mud and puddles, which still lingered on the leaf-strewn paths, but I relished the slight thrill of not knowing quite where my wheels would land. After a final hill, I coasted down towards the bridge that marked the opening of the Luisium. Even at 3:30 P.M., the sun was sinking lower and lower in the sky, so I just took a leisurely tour of the bike paths around the square-looking castle, leaf-bare trees and the lake – now barely recognizable, so covered over was it with the debris of autumn.

As I made my way back, I was consumed by my own pensive thoughts and veered left towards home at the fork in the path. As I continued, the leaves covering the ground got stickier with mud, and finally I had to stop altogether when my front wheel lodged itself in a sinkhole. Only then, with a panicky flutter in the pit of my stomach, did I realize I didn’t recognize the path. It was getting dusky and I didn’t want to be caught in the forest after dark. Wild pigs are native to the area, and it’s also full of hunting stands, not to mention the pitch black that would surely descend here far from the glow of street lights. I turned back towards the main path and was plagued by nightmarish images of all the things that could happen to me in the forest after dark. At the crossroads once again, I paused for a moment and had the epiphany that maybe I’d turned too early, that I actually needed to go further away from the main road to connect with the path that would lead me back to it. This did indeed turn out to be true and my bike burst from the forest into the open meadow. The church tower of Roßlau appearing in the distance restored my previous feeling of euphoria, and my intense relief at being found again fueled my furious pedaling towards home.

Deine,
N*