To get from my home out to better places to cycle I often ride the Minuteman Bike Trail.  This trail runs from Somerville to Bedford.  There has been a lot of commentary about trail use –  pointing fingers at cyclists for going too fast, rollerbladers for talking up too much room, and walkers for not paying attention – seems like everyone has a beef about the trail.  However, this piece is neither about trail use nor a forum for whining about trail etiquette. 

 

Riding the trail allows me to experience the cycles of the seasons.   There are stretches of woodlands and meadows.  There are wild herbs that grow along the sides.  There is wild life that inhabits the surrounding area.  Given that the trail runs through cities and suburbs, it is quite a microcosm of nature. 

 

Right now the last few leaves have fallen off the trees.  The winter is perhaps the only season where you can clearly see the sky from the trail, as the trees create a thick canopy during the rest of the year.  The colors are various shades of grey and white, almost as if you were looking at a black and white photo.  It is cold, but quieter than the bustling summer.  The light is weak and by 4:30 PM it is pitch dark on the trail. When the snow flies, much of the trail will be impassable on a road bicycle.  (They don’t plow the whole thing which is really too bad.)

 

I find the spring most exciting on the trail.  My favorite pagan holiday is Imbolc which celebrates the new growth under the snow.  When that new growth starts peaking through and the energy of spring is in the air, I feel newly alive.  The first few times in the spring when I ride the trail, I enjoy the efforts of the plants coming up through the last of the snow.  It is a messy time – wet and muddy, but it is a harbinger of the beginning of biking season and the promise of warmer biker friendly weather to come.  The buds start to form on the trees creating a sense of expectation.  There is a new life on the trail.

 

The summer is the most active time on the trail.  The leaves of the trees create a canopy which provides welcomed shade to users.  There are squirrels and chipmunks that scamper across the trail trying to avoid being run over by the cyclists.  I once saw a doe and two fawns on the trail.  In parts of the trail there are berries that people pick and herbs that they collect.  It is a time of fullness and abundance.

 

A sadness comes over me when autumn starts to set in.  The leaves change from green to bright orange, yellow and red.  The colors are brilliant and sometimes you can look out and see a landscape on fire with color.  The leaves fall onto the trail creating a difficult and dangerous surface for cyclists.  The landscape changes again and winter returns, only to yield to spring in a few months, and thus the cycle continues.

 

Riding the trail through the seasons reminds me that we live in cycles.  There are the cycles of the seasons, but also the cycles of our lives.  I am in the autumn of my life.  I am forty-seven years old and I am noticing changes that come with age.  I am also aware of benefits of my experience and tend to appreciate the wisdom of it.  My father is in the winter of his life and although I grieve his decline, I also know that the cycle of life is unavoidable.  There are also smaller cycles in our lives, such as the cycling season.

 

The cycling season, has its cycle, that in this New England area, reflects the cycles of the seasons.  Winter for base  miles, spring starts more intense training, summer for racing and then fall ends the season with a return to base miles in preparation for the next round.  There is something comforting to this predictable progression, and for me there is hope.  Last summer I was teaching bicycle riding and was too busy to train well.  So, I abandoned my racing goals and had a full summer of teaching (which also runs in cycles!).  Now that we are back at the beginning of the cycle, I get to reassess and reconsider my goals and start over if I want. 

 

However, just because cycles repeat themselves, does not mean they are the same for us.  The good news is that we are human and that we grow and learn.  Each year brings new growth and change,  and although the season may look the same we are not.  Change is the only constant.  It is more like a spiral.  We are at the same x coordinate, but have moved on the y.  (If you didn’t get that don’t worry.)  In other words, we are starting a cycle over but with all the experience we have gained from the previous ones.  So, as I ride the Minuteman I am aware of the fact that I am not the same cyclist I was last year and I will not be the same next year as well.  I have the potential to grow and hopefully become a stronger rider.  Each season has its joys and difficulties, but if we wait we can be assured that these will change, as cycles do.