big yellow bicycle

S has always been our little guy, but last summer he grew to where I had to hold my neck up to look at him. This sounds like a small thing, but it's surprising how habituated we become to our most familiar companions. It's taken me nearly a year not to feel shocked every time I see him.

One of the nice things about this growth is that he now fits an adult-sized bicycle with 26" tires, higher gear ratios and longer cranks. This in turn means that instead of simply toodling around the neighborhood, we can take longer rides.

Our main route has been along a country road just south of us. At this time of year, tomato trucks are moving the crops. Sometimes there are fallen tomatoes on the road to roll over—

—but often the road is empty.

The first day we took this route, S suddenly said, "Is that a giant yellow bicycle?"

Can you see what he was looking at?

I could not, until we got closer.

It turned out to be a metal sculpture in someone's yard.

And hanging on the fence was this explanation:

DH, who reads the paper, already knew about it. I'm sure all the serious bicyclists around here—and there are many—know it, as well. But it was a nice surprise for us and has become a marker on our regular route. Maybe we'll eventually explore some of these tours, but for now we like riding on a nearly empty road, squashing tomatoes and watching our yellow bike grow bigger and bigger.