Coming home at night in July I watch the Tour de France on TV if it is interesting. During the days when they race a flat stage, I say I will not watch the tour because it is boring and a waste of time and will strain the eyes. But it comes on the TV somehow, to watch just the sprint, I say, or my Dad wants to watch. When I see the slithering peloton I do not stop watching. The colored jerseys all stay nicely in line, and then in curves and in moments of excitement and at the front riders slide past eachother and move back and forth. It is the internal motion of a great animal. It is also a great mental exercises. Who is that? Why is he doing this? What will happen next? On the flat days the answers are all simple but I still ask the questions.
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July 26th, 2019. Boston, Ma.