If I’m famous for something, it’s my award-winning* avian pictures:
*[My avian photography has never won an award.]
To seize the picture of a hen of prey in mid-flight with a fish in its talons is arguably one among pictures’s biggest challenges. Considerably more easy is getting a good shot of some chickens, as I did this morning whereas passing by Yonkers:
Whereas there are individuals who do hold chickens on this space (I can hear the “cock-a-doodle-doo”-ing once I journey previous their homes), this was the primary time I’ve seen them merely working free, and I can solely assume this implies Yonkers is now on the cusp of being overrun by feral poultry. Based on sure factions, migrants now are consuming up all of the animals, and but these scrumptious unprocessed Chick-fil-A sandwiches clearly really feel comfy and are in a position to scratch round within the grime alongside the bike path fully unmolested. Alas, I not know what to imagine.
Sure, ours is a tradition of extremes, which comes into sharp aid round election time. I too am a person of extremes. For instance, someday I’m using a Roaduno, and the subsequent I’m on a classic Y-Foil, which is basically the Anti-duno:
It’s nonetheless sporting its Vermont gravel mustache:
And sure, this previous week I did actually have a name with one of many engineers who designed the Y-Foil, and I now no extra about this bicycle than maybe every other layperson on the earth.
As for the Roaduno and its pending dingle-ization, I believe the issue is a worn freewheel not cooperating with a brand new chain, and can set up a brand new one imminently.
I’m extraordinarily grateful for all of your assist and solutions over the previous few days, even when most of them have been most likely improper.
Could your weekend run as easily as a well-tuned drivetrain.
