|By Andrew Coulter Enright. |
Used under Creative Commons license.
- See my city from a fresh vantage point, without the isolating barrier of over 3,000 pounds of steel, glass, and assorted petroleum products wrapped around me.
- Make actual eye contact with people out walking, biking, or driving. smile, and connect.
- Give directions to lost drivers who can’t ask another driver, because how would you?
- Notice details I never saw in all the years I drove: architectural features on buildings, interesting signage, side streets that offer a different route to my destination.
- Spot businesses I had no idea even existed that I make a mental note about so I can come back and check them out—or I stop on the spot because I don’t have to search for a parking place so I feel free to make these spontaneous decisions.
Then there’s the flip side—the one created by design that leaves you out.
Afterthought: Perhaps this metaphor has particular power for me because I've worn glasses since I was five years old. I'm terribly nearsighted--and now have the joy of adding farsightedness to the mix as I get just an eensy-teensy bit older. Being able to see clearly is not something I can afford to take for granted.
Somewhat Related Reading:
- Getting Older, or, It's Not Fair but Nobody Said It Would Be
- No Rack?! Now What?
- How Bikes Can Save the World
- It's All in the Attitude
- Biking as Downtime and Other Musings on Overproductivity
- Representing the Aryans: Political Speech, Violence, and Living Without Fear