Past the black winter

From across the lake, Past the black winter trees, Faint sounds of a flute.. “Past the black winter” is published by Think. in ThINK.

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The Leaf

05 Dec 2016 Dragons Tail

The leaf fell.

It was brown and gold, not large with a pointed end slightly upturned, serrated edges uneven on each side back to the root end that bulged where it once was attached to the branch.

Due to the shape, unevenly crinkled and more moisture on one side than the other and therefore heavier, it swooped, wobbled and zagged as it drifted in the slight breeze. It fell silently.

A heave of air disturbed it, a layer of air compressed by a plain silver rounded helmet that pushed and parted the cool morning air. The rider was looking to the left following the bend in the road so the helmet was not symmetrical, causing the leaf to be buffeted more to the right. The rider noticed the leaf as it glistened briefly in view but ignored the tiny thing, completely focused on the complex actions of balancing forces for the corner.

Eyes looking to the edge of the visible roadway to which the bike was hurtling, right hand minutely adjusting the twist grip for the perfect application of energy at exactly the right moment. Feeling the power coming from the back wheel as the tyre edge gripped the road surface, each block squeezing out moisture, between the rubber and the tar, for maximum friction. The back suspension pushed down against bumps that forced the wheel up, keeping the tyre on the surface, all the while the motion of rolling and oscillations were transmitted, in muted form, back up the frame through the seat to the rider’s body, to the legs and spine. Sensitive nerves communicated the tremors to the brain.

As the back wheel turned, so did the front, with the forks working up and down to roll the wheel over bumps and maintaining contact. The side of the tyre flexed with the bike weight deforming it to make an oval contact patch, holding the wheel on the chosen line as the bike was canted over to follow the curve of the road.

The rubber on the front wheel was connected to aluminium rims and steel bearings to forks where springs worked to absorb the undulations, oil being forced through valves to slow the backlash, providing a reduced and muted form of the constant action going on. Tremors were transmitted up the forks to the handlebars where the much more sensitive hands and arms sent rich information to the brain.

Here the brain interpreted the motions, adding in memory of similar corners and conditions. Analysing the multiple factors involved in the current situation — degree of moisture on the road surface (too much?), debris on the surface (stones, pebbles, leaves or twigs), undulations at critical points on the path, angle of lean (too much, not enough?), body position ( inside leg hanging or not, toe pointed in or out, proximity of the ground to the foot), is there time to shift body inside or should more lean be applied. And always computing in the possibility of oncoming traffic in the wrong place, is there an exit?

Having computed all factors in a split millisecond, an adjustment is made. Hold the throttle steady, two fingers on the brake just feeling the drag a tiny bit, a tiny shift of weight of the hips to the inside of the corner to hit the apex just perfectly, then releasing the brake, twist the power smoothly on and take a breath to exit the corner, holding the line and look for the next one.

The leaf was swirled and sucked into the low pressure area behind the helmet, down the rider’s back and then kicked out of the turbulence as the bike swept on. It tumbled over and over, cracked now in the fragile spine, but still mostly in one piece. As the air roiled, it was lofted higher, briefly catching the sunlight and glinting as it turned. Then gravity once again claimed it, sinking more calmly now down to make delicate touchdown with the earth, re-joining its fellows in a gold-brown moist carpet.

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