The road was painted in gold and crimson today, leaves fluttering like confetti as Scott and I set out on the bikes. I was a little off balance, not quite in the groove yet, when I saw the speed limit sign. My eyes read 55. The sign said 35.
So off I went, quick on the throttle, thinking I was right on track. Behind me, Scott was lagging, his hand pumping up and down like an orchestra conductor of slow down. I pointed to the next sign ahead that really did say 55, confused at why we were playing roadside charades. Then it hit me—oops. Misread the first one.
Later, Scott asked if I’d noticed the trooper sitting right there watching it all unfold. Of course I hadn’t. Apparently the trooper joined in too, laughing, pumping his hand like Scott. When Scott gave the universal slap the helmet gesture, the trooper nodded in agreement.
Sometimes Spirit slips in through humor. What better way to remind me to slow down, notice the signs, and laugh at myself? The lesson came with fall colors, a patient partner, and a trooper with a sense of humor.
Some people are born to inspire. Me? I think Spirit put me here to entertain. And maybe, just maybe, to remind us all that the journey is lighter when laughter rides along.
Your turn to stir the tea