Ridea Bike, and Be Free
2018-04-28盒子菌
绘◎盒子菌
No one forgets their first bicycle.Mine was a Schwinn coaster, secondhand,painted a distinctive①distinctive 英 [dɪ'stɪŋ(k)tɪv] 美 [dɪ'stɪŋktɪv]adj. 有特色的,与众不同的red and yellow by its previous owner. I remember wobbling②wobbling['wɑblɪŋ] adj. 摇晃的;颤动的n. 摆动;颤动v. 蹒跚;晃动;踌躇(wobble的ing形式)dangerously - and too fast - down the big hill on Springfield Avenue amid③amid 英 [ə'mɪd] 美 [ə'mɪd] prep. 在其中,在其间encouraging outriders: friends who had already learned.I knew at once I was being set free, that the world would be mine to explore.
A couple of years later,when I was 11, my grandmother visited from England, bringing me a bicycle. She came by sea and the bicycle came in a crate with her luggage. It was a glossy④glossy 英 ['glɒsɪ] 美 ['glɑsi] adj. 光滑的;有光泽的dark green, with three gears and hand brakes.As the owner of the fi rst English bicycle my peers had ever seen, I was, for a time,almost a celebrity⑤celebrity 英 [sɪ'lebrɪtɪ] 美 [sə'lɛbrəti] n. 名人;名声.
Unlike the coaster bike, it was light and responsive—riding it felt like fl ying. I rode it everywhere, all over the hilly suburb⑥where we lived. I rode past the big stone houses with their huge yards and established trees. I rode alone and with gangs of friends through the seasons: spicy autumn dusks,lingering spring afternoons, hot summer mornings, even deep into the chill of winter before snow and ice stopped me.That beloved bike went
with me to college, carrying me to the library and to classes, past the big frame houses of Brattle Street and the shabby triple-deckers of North Cambridge, and into trouble with the local police for ignoring one-way street signs.
Beyond transport, it was often a prop⑦prop 英 [prɒp] 美 [prɑp] n. 支柱,支撑物:Pushing it along as I walked the college paths made me feel less conspicuous⑧conspicuous 英 [kən'spɪkjʊəs] 美 [kən'spɪkjʊəs]adj. 显著的;显而易见的.Somehow, conversation fl owed more easily on either side of a bike.
After college, I lived abroad for a time.Returning from London, I discovered to my horror that my parents had sold my bike.They didn't even know who had bought it.
For years after that, I didn't have a bicycle that was specifically mine. I did not take any of those bikes with me when I moved south to the coastal town where I now live. But after a while I missed riding.
Finally, on a fall day, I bought a bicycle.
Still, I was a bit apprehensive. I was out of the habit and a lot older. I brought the bike home and put on my helmet—I'd never worn a helmet before. Then I got on the bike to ride down to the boardwalk.
After a tentative⑨tentative 英 ['tentətɪv] 美 ['tɛntətɪv]adj. 试验性的,暂定的;踌躇的n. 假设,试验, slightly wobbly start, I felt exactly as I had that long-ago day on Springfi eld Avenue: free. Soon I was scudding⑩scudding['skʌdiŋ] n. 刮面v. 疾行;掠过;顺风疾驶;擦掉……的污垢(scud的ing形式)along, watching the waves break,hearing the gulls cry. The beach roses were still blooming, the monarch butterflies in full jittery flight. It seemed that everyone I passed smiled and waved or called out almost wistfully, "Great day for a bike ride!"
And I knew they all remembered their fi rst bike and how it had set them free. It still can, I wanted to call back to them, it still can.