Tarmac ribbons criss-crossing the landscape, dusty back roads twisting between the cool shadows of ancient pines, and less traveled pathways connecting present to past, all I wander, seeking, seeing, with my keyboard and camera capturing scenes and stories to share with you.

Now in its sixth year, this venue has become an important part of my life, a place where I can express my thoughts and feelings about the things I see and do, hoping the process brings me a bit closer to friends and family who enjoy sharing my sometimes chaotic and often nonlinear observations and ideas. A journal, I suppose, but one with which I find pleasure in thinking others are alongside me on my journey.

Comments, thoughts, or just a friendly chat, use the response box below or email me at patrickgroleau@gmail.com.

August 5, 2014

A SIGN


... over a week ago i returned from new hampshire after housesitting for sarah and gordy ... leaving freedom, i turned onto route 25 and headed east ... crossing the border into maine i began to enjoy the scenery as the highway wound along the banks of the ossipee river ...

... suddenly, literally in the blink of an eye, a huge bird burst from the line of pine trees between the road and water and shot right in front of my motorcycle ... the first year i rode this might've been a disaster, but i'm proud to say i've been riding long enough that i've actually learned some things ... in a moment to short to measure i assessed the situation, saying to myself, "you're better off running into a turkey (that's what i thought the bird was) than you would be drastically reacting" ... even as i began to tense up for the impact with the creature i saw that it had turned and was flying directly in front of me, almost within arms reach of my left hand ... it was then i observed that it clearly wasn't a turkey ...

... "hmmmmm, not a turkey ... a ... no, neither a crow or raven ... it's ... it's a ..." ...

... at that moment i became aware that another feathered friend was flying along just above my right hand ... cruising at forty miles-per-hour, a giant bird flying along on each side of me, i finally realized that i was being accompanied by two very, very large juvenile bald eagles ...

... i checked my mirrors, making sure there were no vehicles behind me ... the road ahead was clear of traffic ... i was driving at a constant forty-five miles-per-hour ... there was a breeze, nothing much to affect the handling of my bike ... it was a beautiful day ... 

... the two eagles flew in formation with me for almost a quarter-mile, all the while effortlessly floating just above my hands ... i had time to think to myself, "i wonder if i could get the camera out of my top bag," but i had enough common sense to resist the urge (knowing that i didn't have a wide-angle lens on the camera helped a bit) ... every now and then the eagles would turn their heads and look at one another ...

... then, much slower then when they'd joined me, the two birds drifted higher and higher and higher above my bike, then turned and disappeared into the line of trees ...

... i smiled and i kept riding because, after all, what else could i do ...

... i don't believe in "signs" ... i mean, as you know, i'm a rather rational agnostic ...

... yet, somehow, i believe this was clearly a sign ... (i'm okay with this, since i was fifteen years-old my reason has become quite comfortable with my ambivalence) ...

... it's going to take some time for me to figure out what it means ...

... in the meantime, of course, i'm thinking i probably should drop any plans i've ever entertained as to being a police sketch artist ...