Bicycles
Atlanta seems to wish to capitalise on my lightening mood. Or, she has been carried away by my childhood tales of cavorting in wintry evergreen meadows and among the leafless trees. Either way, she drags me out of the house to, as she says it, “enjoy the open air.”
And her way of such is to teach me to ride a “bicycle” – a two-wheeled vehicle which moves through indirect foot power, pushing on a pair of sticks connected to a chain system.
I am very, very, very fortunate that I have a good sense of balance, despite my currently reduced state, and I can use my seiðr as a failsafe. As it is, I nearly fall over several times already while attempting to ride Atlanta’s old “kiddy” bicycle across the lawn!
Once I master it, however, the constant back-and-forth swinging and pushing motion of my legs feels rather peaceful, and so does the travel along the groomed and decorated gardens that encircle the house. Better yet, Atlanta is riding beside me on another, bigger “bicycle,” and it feels like the far quieter version of a companionable horse ride with Thor.
A good way to tamp down on my inexplicable homesickness.