A nice leisurely luncheon rambling perambulation through suburban Towson led to an amazing roadside sight :
Dinner, I mean the deer, was within 2 meters of the sidewalk of a heavily trafficked road that cuts through Towson University.
Sometimes slowing down and getting off the saddle better reveals nature’s wonders.
Pedal on!
I thought I’d comment on a few of the random sites I see on my hikes and bikes. This one is my favorite so far this year. The Buang Biker™ is a fan of this person now.
And there are some odd things to see. Like what the heck is getting broadcast? This yagi antenna is pretty much pointed right at Towson University residences. 
But then there are also amazingly beautiful mini waterfalls in the middle of town:
Next time, the Six Bridges Trail.
Until then….Pedal on!
Today was my first time out for a lunch ride on Joe. It was also my first real ride on Joe since the road rose up to meet me and fractured my wrist.
What most people don’t realize is how hilly Towson is! At least not until you have to walk or bike it.
It’s actually pretty amazing how many people have managed to cram houses next to each other on the hills. What’s more amazing is the ingenuity the homeowners have when it comes to make use of the hills for activities. To wit, who woulda thought to make a rock climbing wall for their backyard:
On the other hand, the streams throughout Towson are littered with basketballs and soccer balls lost to the hills.
Pedal on!
Antenneskog
by Rolf Jacobsen
Oppe på byens tak er det store sletter.
Dit krøp stillheten opp da det ikke var plass til den på gatene.
Nå kommer skogen efter.
Den må være der hvor stillheten holder til.
Tre følger på tre i underlige lunder.
Den får det ikke riktig til for bunnen er for hard.
Det blir en glissen skog, en gren mot øst,
og en mot vest. Til det ligner på kors. En skog
av kors. Og vinden spør
– Hvem hviler her
i disse dype graver?
_________________________________________________________________________________
Antenna-forest
Translated by Roger Greenwald
Up on the city’s roofs there are large fields.
That’s where silence crept up to
when there was no room for it on the streets.
Now the forest comes in its turn.
It needs to be where silence lives.
Tree upon tree in strange groves.
They don’t do very well, because the floor is too hard.
So they make a sparse forest, one branch toward the east,
and one toward the west. Until it looks like crosses. A forest
of crosses. And the wind asks
– Who’s resting here
in these deep graves?
While riding the Heritage Rail Trail in York City with Henergy-on-Wheels™, yours truly noticed a sight that took him back to his undergrad days when life was carefree and Weezer came Undone. Back in those days I had an interest in Scandanavia, which eventually led to 4 trips to Iceland and some really great friends.
But before that first trip, I came across a bi-lingual book of Norwegian poetry at college: Twenty Contemporary Norwegian Poets. One poem that caught my fancy was “Antennaskog”. Skog is Norwegian for forest, and the imagery conjured up in that one word alone of rooftops blanketed by antennas, the progress of communication, and the alienation of individuals transcended language. The word has stuck in my mind ever since.
It’s a word I finally got to share with my son upon turning a bend in the trail and seeing:
Who would have thought that after 30 years it would make utter sense to use the word antennaskog in small town America?
Pedal on……
