I feel lazy today. I haven’t yet gotten dressed. I made the coffee, read the paper, talked to my sister in Colorado, had another cup of coffee and finally got down to writing. That brings me to now.

Today is uninviting, a bleak day with a grey sky threatening rain. It is in the low 70’s, but a strong breeze makes it feel colder. My house is dark. I’ve left the lights off. It is also quiet, almost as if no one lives here. The dogs are napping, Henry upstairs and Nala beside me on the couch. My mood is somber, reflecting the day.

When I was a kid, I always went to mass. I feared mortal sin. I didn’t want my soul to look like the black milk bottle in my catechism. My church clothes, not to be confused with my school clothes or my play clothes, were always the same, a dress or skirt, good shoes and a hat. I carried my missal. It gave me something to read. Back then, the mass was in Latin with Latin responses. The priest faced the altar and had his back to us. I always felt a bit detached.

When I was out on my bike, my mother never knew where I was. Even if she had asked, I could never had told her where I’d be. I usually didn’t know myself. I had many different routes. I remember riding by the golf course and looking for and finding balls in the gutters and on the lawns of houses across the street. Two different directions led to other towns, one had the lake while the other had the trains. I could ride to the zoo. I’d put my bike in the bike stand and check out all the cages. Back then, the zoo had an elephant and a kiddy zoo where the animals were in scenes from nursery rhymes like the clock in Hickory Dickory Dock, the old lady’s shoe and Humpty Dumpty on his wall. At the end of the zoo were picnic tables. If I had brought my lunch, I’d sit there.

I’d check out Spot Pond. It is by the zoo. It was a reservoir which meant no trespassing at all. I always imagined a Huck Finn raft with me sneaking to the island with food and shelter and hiding there to camp. The water always looked so inviting. Now, you can fish for bass and bluegill and rent boats like canoes and kayaks, but you still can’t swim there.

My bike took me everywhere, even once to East Boston to visit my grandparents. My bike made my world so much bigger. I was an explorer.