I saw this over on Steve Garro’s Coconino Blog. It is a photograph of Doug Roether’s bicycle. A bike Steve made for him.
The image speaks. It speaks volumes. The scene, the orientation of the bike, the bare naked saddle.
The photo was taken somewhere in the glorious southwestern United States. I would imagine it is one of the many spectacular vistas in Moab, Utah. I looks like one of the places I have been, at least once in my life. The sun is shining brightly. The view was earned. Arid. Dry. The southwest. The desert. The great expanse. It is bleak and it is harsh. At first glance, it is a seemingly lifeless and desolate. But it is not any of those things. Upon closer inspection, it is alive. Perhaps not teeming with life, but still full of promise. It is both beautiful and inspiring. And therefore fitting to our present needs.
His bicycle is white. This is the color which inspires Hope. It is the color of the Hero. The color of Good. Of Justice. Of the promise of the coming day, as compared to the despair of night’s darkness. Of being found, rather than being lost. The triumph of good over evil.
The bike is set skyward, pointed upwards into an seemingly endless blue expanse. Set to leave this earth, this existence, poised for launch into the very heavens.
She is (and bikes are women, after all) without man at the helm. Without a pilot. Has he left it? No. He has not left, he is coming. The bike is waiting. Awating, patiently, his return. He is just there, within reach, just out of view. But he is there, you can feel him. The chariot awaits it master. Obedient. Poised. Potential energy. Like an arrow pointed at the stars.
It is a beautiful image.by