When everything is going well, riding a bike is an experience in sight, sound and smell. The aromatic mix of exhaust and onions cooking inside peoples’ houses. A strange combination of angry commuters pounding their steering wheels and happy couples sharing a quiet conversation on the sidewalk. The red glow of taillights and neon from bars you never would have noticed otherwise.
All this makes it hard to ride without the urge to snap a picture. A building. A sunset. A shadow. Usually my impulse to grab the camera gets overruled by logic, doubt and the fact that I’m generally on my way somewhere. Most often, I come up with good reasons not to stop. In a few short seconds, I convince myself I’ll have a better opportunity to capture whatever it is that caught my attention at a later time. When the light is different. When there’s less traffic. When there are fewer rednecks around.
But this rationale can be problematic when you’re nomadic (as we tend to be). And the scenery you take for granted today may be the scenery you long for tomorrow. So I’ve been snapping bad photos and telling myself that even though most memories aren’t noteworthy, they’ll at least be saved somewhere for future reference. Or not.
I passed this old shed every day for over a year before our most recent move. I stopped by Saturday to capture the decay in progress.