transitions

"Where are you going?" she asked.
"Out - I need to burn some rust proofing off the front brake disk," I answered, slinging my small camera bag over my shoulder and climbing onto my bicycle.
"Are you visiting anyone?"
"No. Just going to rip around."

As I pedaled away, I thought to find at least a glimpse of the transitions which define this time of year and make it special.

I turned my dirty bicycle, front brake disk clean of oil, towards home, pedaling through the increasing dark.