With the autumn closing in, the evening temperatures dropped quickly. The first pockets of crisp night air bit at our noses as we made our way along the banks of the Katsura River.
The landscape grew a deep gold. Looking back over my left shoulder, I caught a glimpse of the sun’s light fading. There’s a certain feeling I get when I look to the west while the sun is setting.
Delicate gray shadows were steadily growing black. With every moment, murky darkness swallowed detail after detail. Soon, only the headlights on our bikes could show the way.
The first lights in Kyoto twinkled a few kilometers ahead of us. There is a certain magic in approaching a city on a bicycle, arriving at a place that you never been and most likely will never see again.
On the southern edge of the horizon, a flock of cranes was winging its way southward to dull skies.
It had been a good day on the bikes. I feel my soul beginning to expand. Excited to be in Kyoto, I wondered what the next few days would bring. Images of shrines and geisha’s filled my head.
All that would have to wait for tomorrow. The Katsura still held an experience or two.
Travel is good, especially on a bicycle. It’s good to go now, while there’s still time to change the path you’re on. It’s good to be on the road again.