Coming out of the house, I met my landowner as he obviously just arrived holding his bike by his side. He asked, “Where are you going?”
“Biking.”
He smiled and said, “Enjoy the day!” as he positioned his bike to rest on a wall bordering our neighbor. He has never missed to say something every time we meet.
I unlocked my bike which was chained beside a metal fence, and replied, “Thanks, sure I will.”
It was five in the afternoon of Saturday. I started to move towards the south where my university and the forested area of Nijmegen are located. I passed rows of similarly-designed houses on both sides of the road.
I did not really have a plan where to go.
As a Filipino studying in Holland , I welcome this lifestyle. Although not entirely new to me, biking is something that I am not used to doing everyday. Now I bike to go to the university and supermarket, to visit friends around the city, and tour around the city that would be my home until the duration of my studies. Oftentimes, I bike with a destination in mind.
After 20 minutes of several intersection stops and leisurely biking, I could see ahead the green tops of trees closing in on me. I was heading to the direction of Malden , a village just outside Nijmegen .
As I approached the forested area, a stream of refreshing breeze blew on my face, ear and hair. The gusts of wind went through every pore of my skin slicing away the weight of worries and concerns in my body and mind. There was a sudden heightening of senses, of life. I felt that my body opened up to perceive this awakening moment of being present in a particular time and space. My body, as it were, expanded to embrace those things that came along the ride.
Inside the woods, every pedal, left and right foot, synchronized with my heartbeat and breathing. The greeneries of the surroundings brightened the way deeper into an arching dome of trees. Tree trunks peeped from afar while those closer simply stood like guardians of the woods. Dried leaves scattered on the ground. Decaying, some leaves seemed to be part of the soil, thus feeding the earth’s soul.
My bike swooned to the twittering of crisscrossing birds from the branches. I saw another biker several meters ahead of me. He was moving slowly. I moved past him and looked at his face smiling wryly. There was a certain questioning look in his eyes. But he smiled back. Then, the straight road stretched my sight forward.
As I pedaled down the road, I recalled the biker after me. The man could be in his 50s.
That look, “Why are you rushing?”
Those steady and easy pedals could be signs that he had been to the woods several times. For him, it might not be about getting in and out of the woods. It might not simply be passing through the woods. That forested area is itself a destination.
When I looked back, I thought I lost him. Then, a tiny colored figure emerged from a distance. He seemed to add colors to the shade and tapestry of the woods.
Upon seeing the end of the road, I decided to go back, retracing the same road. This time, there would be no rush. Deep into the woods, I reached my destination.
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