Rest, Relaxation and the End of a Vacation

Unshaven, rested, relaxed.  That's what a week of vacation can do for a person.  My friend Gordon made the photograph, my wife Kim said I looked relaxed, and I know I'm rested and unshaven.  The past week has been an exercise in no plans, no schedule, no goals, no nothing.  I like to think I'm a creature of habit but it's more likely I'm a creature of circumstance.  With no schedule to adhere to I've stayed up 'til dawn, slept past noon, hung out in coffee shops and generally watched the world go by.

And did some Vespa riding.

On days I didn't sleep past noon I was out in the cold with the dog or on the Vespa.  A week of that was all it took to acclimate to the frigid weather.  Now everything from 20F and higher feels comfortable.  Or at least tolerable.

This image was made on Sunday morning at sunrise with Junior in tow.  A dog offers fine examples of how to embrace life at it's simplest level.

Junior pausing briefly for me to make a portrait.  Cold enough outside for his breath to freeze over the hair on his neck.  He just walked through the living room, looked at me, and went upstairs to bed. "He know's the day's over," said Kim.  "No more walks, treats or food.  Nothing left but to go to sleep."

I'm almost in the same place.

It's been a cold week with snow and ice and have helped thicken my riding blood.  This morning Mr. Pumpkin looked particularly annoyed by the 18F temperature reading as I got ready to ride into town to meet my photography compatriots at Saint's Cafe.  Neither the Vespa or I uttered a complaint.

Morning has more attraction for me than any other time of day -- visually and mentally.  I awake quickly with no need for coffee or tea.  Seeing the sun rise and the warm beams of light lick through the trees continues to cause the heart to beat faster.

Allen Street is still asleep at 8:30 on a Sunday morning.  Plenty of parking and no traffic to contend with is fine by me.

Saint's Cafe in State College, Pennsylvania.  The holiday decorations have already gone up.  The place seems personal, friendly and like home.

Simple pleasures during the vacation.  Hot chocolate and a few moments alone with my thoughts.

The earlybirds.  In thirty minutes the place will start to fill up and the hustle and bustle will become more pronounced.  Being away from that pace for just a week makes the change seem dramatic.

During the past week the Vespa and I have ridden the familiar tracks and explored some new ones.  The snow and ice have offered an opportunity to sharpen my skills and mind and the time away from work has allowed my batteries to recharge so I can jump head first into some big projects.

And the rides have given me a chance to catch up with old friends if only for a few moments. But mostly I just laid about in decadent sloth.  So much for plans to organize my digital photos or straightening up the garage.  It was far more satisfying to nap, eat, ride play with the dog, hang out with Kim and anything other than be a responsible adult.

Damn, I guess I need to go upstairs and shave now.

Relaxation and a Morning Vespa Ride

I'm that dog, quiet, aware, and letting the day wash over me.  Except I don't have to lay on the concrete.  And I can enjoy a breakfast sandwich and juice at the local Starbucks.  I don't know this dog, he doesn't know me, but we passed time quietly this morning in the same space.  Not sure how he arrived but I was delivered on a Vespa.

The morning was unplanned and as opportunities presented themselves the Vespa responded.  Farm lanes often lead to interesting landscapes, opportunities to observe and wonder.

I've photographed this tree many times over the past 35 years -- marking time and change.  Someday I made walk up to it and introduce myself.

The morning started as usual with Junior and I greeting the day.  He's learned that the scooter signals my departure and a guilt driven presentation of a Milkbone.  He seems satisfied with the arrangement.

State College is quiet on Sunday morning.  No other motorcycles to deal with and traffic is light.  Short trips into town, trips I have been making for decades still intrigue me.  There is always something to look at.  I still love the way things glow early on a sunny day.

Back on the road, a stop to dream about travel and riding and destinations too far.  For today I'm happy with the short ride through the central Pennsylvania landscape.  I have plans for the garden today so the Vespa can wait for another time.

One last stop at the Pump Station in Boalsburg before heading home.  A cup of tea and a cinnamon roll and some time to write in my journal.  This is what I do when I take short rides on the Vespa.  I've done the same on a motorcycle but for some unexplained reason a four-wheeled vehicle drains any desire to relax and reflect.  It's just a tool to get somewhere I guess.  Not sure why and don't really care.  

I'm just glad I have a Vespa.