Biking up a paved canyon trail, the rushing river off to the side, a small family walks ahead. It appears to be an older father and mother and a playful adult woman. I presume she is their daughter.
The younger woman, starts to skip. Her arms swing in a way that she is inviting her parents to join. I watch closely. As I near, I can hear the lyrical sound of an Asian language. Ten seconds before I pass, the parents start skipping with their daughter.
I smile. Big.
But when they hear me, so close, inhibitions wrap them tight so their skips are strangled. They turn towards me as I pass. They seem embarrassed but they are still smiling.
How can I convey to strangers the joy in seeing them skip together?
Do I have a right to interrupt them, to intrude as a stranger? Do I cable my own rhythm as I peddle the incline of the path?
No, I hold back as firmly as they did when they stopped skipping. In the presence of strangers.
But the joy stays with me as I hope it does them.
Comments