Twice a week my son Sacha rides like the wind on his BMX bike. The hills are steep and many. He loves it. He doesn’t mind the bumps, scratches and bruises. He is young and doesn’t yet know fear as a foe.
Saint Victory (the mountain in the view, the one Cezanne often painted,) spreads her arms wide cheering him onward, "Sacha, go go go!"
While Sacha races I tend to stand in the background, chasing fear around in the parking lot, and leaning on that mountain for strength.
…and then in the corner of my eye I see him ride. I see his enthusiasm, I feel his heart happy, and I know he is on top of the world. The wind and the mountain call his name and he roars, YES!
and I sigh, "Victory, he is ready." and watch him fly.
photo: Sacha at the starting gate, where the coach hollers: "Riders are you ready? Set ’em up!
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