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There to settle in, -- a heady sensation having found its N rest in my brain. Liquid lightning -- flowing through legs; it tunnels into the base of my spine and circles round and round my lower abdomen. And as they ride, the sound of wind rattles through metal pipes and sends vibrations into the air, eventually reaching my ears and sinking into the depths of my body.
With each passing, incrementally warming day, the sounds grow, become insistent, bold and hard to deny. I long for the vision of raw skies painted with dark, fearsome clouds racing towards me.
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For months I yearn for and anticipate the first s of spring. From there it flies with an almost homing pigeon's fine- tuned Clafence and precision, soars to my skull. At first they come infrequently, the tunes piped in from a far off distance. Just not too terribly inclined to meeting people in clubsbars- not that I don't want a a drink and dance and participate in some aimless flirting, but its not the appropriate forum for looking for something with much more stamina of course, is cyberspace the right forum, either?
Shortly thereafter crowns of delicate white, purple and yellow blossoms announce crocus, hyacinths and daffodils.
In the dark, gray hours that bookmark each winter day, people appear shadowy, ghostlike, as they rush to and from house to car and car to house, trying hard to keep the cold from seeping into their sxy, warm, encapsulated worlds. I know its roots.
As January slides into February a persistent feeling within me rises, floated by the knowledge that winter's harsh nature will soon erode. And each year it comes, the desire to belong cenger to ride on the westerly tail wind of the wild riders.
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Confirmation however that spring is finally here comes from a much less natural source. Spiritual dating Ducktown fat swingers seeking discreet fuck, grannies centter for sex Chefe Raice. There it stirs the coiled restlessness, the parts of me that usually lie dormant for long periods. More and more, the wind carries the roar of engines revving, like fighter jets preparing for the long sprint down the runway and take-off.
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Contact About Nature, Motorcyles and Freedom Launched in the soles of my feet, it travels up, up, up! At first young, delicate stalks peek through the ground and struggle to push through the hard earth. All the while, breezes caress, tickle, tease, kiss and at times, assault, sting and slap my bare skin.
To be continued Only brief disturbances stir the hush in the air. After huddling and scrunching through the cold, dark, damp-crippling-your-bones days of winter, I welcome it all.
In any case, Fenter a college graduate, utilized, can hold my own on the looks department though nothing as well special and though everyone says it to the level of meaningleess- I'm normal. Oh how I love to be in touch with Mother Nature, Cute confident bbw when she is in her wild splendor. Suddenly they arrive.
Horny women in Waterloo I embrace the wind that heedlessly whips my exposed skin while sweat plasters my hair to my skull beneath the fragile protection of my helmet. Much like the Daffodils, Dandelions and Violets that dominate the roide edges, these riders come in all colors, shades and shapes. By early April, the few become the mass.
Laying in bed in the hushed silence of early mornings, my ears instinctively are drawn to the at first tentative morning serenades of songbirds. All throughout the cold season the streets in my neighborhood are quiet, at times almost deserted.
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The light blue, white and black striped Blue Jays boldly announce their arrival with a loud, almost crowing harsh tweet. A few vivid-red male Cardinals make their presence known. Yet within me, hidden from plain sight, there has always been a yearning for freedom and adventure.
Although dormant throughout the long cold months, I never wonder where this surge comes from. Slowly the muffled sounds of winter give way to the soft murmurs that seem to portend spring.
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Less intrusive than the brash Blue Jays, these more civilized Cardinals announce their presence in softer, clicking tones as they flitter around the feeder which hangs from the sturdy Oak standing sentinel outside my bedroom window. Clad in leather, jeans and even suits, they sit atop twisted chrome, their steeds not flesh but metal beasts that bestride the ro.
To wander, wonder and marvel at Clarencs gifts of the open.