Earth Day and Memories
The first was the woods behind our house. I loved to go out there in the winter after a fresh, heavy snowfall. The snow was beautifully pristine upon the trees and the ground, and I always found the woods to be the most still and serene at such times. I could hike back there for 2 hours at a time, all alone in the snow-covered woods and hills, wandering without reason, want, or worry.
During that time and for years following, I found a similar sense of connection to the world (and not people) though riding my bicycle. In high school in the summer I would often get up on a Sunday at sunrise and ride my bike into town - about 4 miles over gravel. I would just ride though the still and silent small town of Louisburg, Kansas, with absolutely no point or destination whatsoever. I enjoyed being totally alone in the middle of a population of people I knew were there but would not see, unknown and unseen to them. The gentle click of the coasting 10-speed bike was all that could be heard, and all I wanted to hear. I'm not sure why even now, looking back from a distance of 30-odd years. I did it for the simple joy it brought to me, and maybe even because it had no point.
For years after high school I rode, reveling in the solitude of my thoughts on the open road in the middle of nowhere, with my heart pounding in my ears as I struggled against the Kansas and later Nebraska hills and wind. It was not enough to merely be alone - I had to be struggling against my own physical limitations as I would ride 50 or 100 miles in a day for no reason other than to have that time for my mind and for my body. As I got older it became mostly just riding 12-15 miles in a day to and from work, but it was time I can realize now I needed for me.
I can't say I miss these things, really. All of our experiences bring us to who and where we are now - and you can never really go back again, except in your memories.