Bicycle Journal with Treehuggers

Brought my camera on this sparkling day bicycle ride, planning to stop for batteries at the drugstore. I crossed the busy street one way, and pushed the walk signal button for the next cross. Walk signaled, I stepped out and was halfway across when I caught a car making a left turn in my direction. She was braking/forward/braking/forward right on my back wheel. I gave her a big frown, and turned away. She drove into the parking lot, pulled in front of me, and rolled down the passenger window. "You were in the crosswalk when it was a no walk signal," she growled, holding up her hand, palm out, as though I might not recognize a don't walk sign. "I left on the walk signal," I started to say. She interrupted, "Well, you were still walking when it said don't walk." Flabbergasted, and pissed, I said, "Look, just watch out for bicyclers, okay?" "YOU, TOO!" she yelled, and sped away. So, being in such a big hurry she needed to nudge me out of her way with her car, she then wasted more time explaining to me how thoughtless she was. The ride improved immediately, thanks to the gorgeous sky, the applauding cottonwoods, brilliant asters, sumac, the beautiful Huron Valley Rail Trail, and the fragrant air of Michigan in autumn. I took a picture of my favorite treehuggers: trees that stood beside each other season after season and then came down together, (or were shoved by a frustrated motorist) and there they rest, becoming one with the swamp.