Tooling down the Rum River Trail on my trusty one-speed Ranger bicycle, I saw an inline-skater a few hundred yards ahead. She was young, maybe a teen, and was grooving to music on her headphones. We entered the forested part of the path, a shaft of sunlight piercing the canopy and spotlighting her as she began to gracefully spread her arms, a beautiful bird-like swooping as she hurtled between the white pines. As I began to near her, she turned her head and saw my approach.
I felt bad that I had ruined her reverie, I quickly passed so that she could resume her solo flight.