I rode my bike nine miles or more to Grand Haven for the street art fair. The sun hovered overhead at solar noon, although the clock read after 1:00 PM. I was committed to seeing the fair, and I wore a baseball cap for sun protection and a big shirt. Hard to protect ones hands or the sides of ones face. I feel a bit of heat in my left cheeks. I think the solar heat and redness will be gone by morning, though. I could by a hat with a wider brim. Biking home, the sun had sunk, and I enjoyed the shadows of 8:30 PM. I am thinking it took me less than two hours to bike home.
On the way south, south of Sternberg Road in the south bound lane, I saw a black pancake fringed with blue jay feathers. I often see racoons on the road, stiff and dead, and the occasional crushed turtle. I wondered who managed to strike a blue jay with a car? The tire tracks came after the impact pulled it out of flight. I once hit a pigeon, flying across the road when my windshield interfered. The pigeon thudded and exploded into a cloud of feathers. I admired the beautiful blue and black feathers as I pedaled onward. I resisted the urge to snap a picture. This blue jay picture comes from the Wikipedia.I once sang a campfire song about a bluejay. Way down yonder, not so very far off, a blue jay died of a whooping cough. He whooped so hard from the whooping cough that he whooped his head and his tail right off. Same song. Second Verse. Whole lot louder and a whole lot worse. I have always liked blue jays since I sang that silly song. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Blue_Jay
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