This morning, after downing a banana-mango-strawberry-date smoothie and reading some news sites, I went on a bicycle ride. And something unexpected happened. I saw a nude woman walking on the Spokane Centennial Trail.
The river was lovely today, as usual, and I enjoyed the scenery as I listened to a Fahrenheit 451 audiobook playing through my ear buds. Plenty of folks were out to enjoy the warm, late-winter weather. Being the considerate goofball that I am, I greeted oncoming traffic with a smile and wave and rang my bell for anyone that I was overtaking.
On the way back, about halfway between Liberty Lake and Greenacres, my brain had trouble deciphering what my eyes were seeing. Someone was walking toward me. They appeared to be wearing a flesh toned outfit. No, it was just tight-fitting flesh toned shorts and halter top. Ah, wait… That’s the woman I passed by on the way out, but she has apparently misplaced her clothes! She smiled a strange smile and our eyes met as I rode by.
Why was she nude? As I rode past one, and then another item of clothing she had cast off, I pondered my reaction. It was so incongruous a sight that my only instinct was to be respectful, I guess. Maybe that’s why I focused on her face? Was she an artist of some social variety?
It’s surely a sign of growing older that my reaction to this event is almost entirely philosophical. Right?
