Gloves

I needed them, this morning. There was ice on the roofs of the bike sheds in our neighborhood, and the forecast had warned of maybe minus 3 degrees Celsius locally. Yesterday morning had been cool too. I had been rubbing my hands while riding, thinking that gloves would not be out of place. So today I grabbed a pair walking out the door. I also wore three long-sleeved layers on top, and my thickish, woolen Cannondale socks. And I was fine, though not warm the first half hour (and my toes were a little cold at the end of the ride). Getting the gloves out pretty much completes the transition to fall, which doesn't mean that it's all bad. The last three morning commutes, for example, have all been cool, crisp, and sunny affairs. Both yesterday and today I could see the sun climb out from behind our lake, the Spiegelplas, and the Ankeveense Plassen. A big, orange ball for about fifteen minutes before you can't look at it without blinding yourself. It's also the time when the summer bike commuters are disappearing, either because they don't like the cooler weather or because they don't like messing with lights. There's another step I'll have to take soon: clipping on the headlight and flashers. Then, it might as well be winter.

Update: It turned into a near-symmetrical riding day, because on the way home (no gloves) as I rode into our town, the sun had turned into a big, orange ball again, only now it was about to go down behind the Western horizon. Or rather, the Southwestern horizon--no longer the direction of Abcoude, but more Baambrugge, maybe even Loenersloot. The days are getting short. The only reason it wasn't dark yet at seven was that it was a virtually cloudless sky.