A strong, sunny 55-degree morning allowed me to set out on my Yamaha for a pleasant ride to work.

Much of the ride to work is fairly urban. I live in the suburbs, about a mile West of a cluster of lakes. Just East of the lakes, and all the way to the river, the road is lined with crowded-together houses, wall-to-wall business, separated by occasional sprawls of concrete parking lots. For probably twelve of the seventeen mile trek it's busy-street storefronts. There are a few neighborhoods, but not so many trees in front of the houses.

Approaching the river, about the last mile of the stretch, the trees return in the yards, and it starts to look almost suburban, although it's just the edge of the city. On both sides of the river are, well, river-side houses. Usually a little larger, bigger yards, and parkways between the houses and rivers. I turn shortly after crossing the river and ride down one of the last spans of giant houses in the city, Summit Avenue; a three-block wide span of parkway and parkway-facing mansions and colleges.

The leaves are starting to turn, so the parkway is covered with an umbrella of fall colored leaves; green is very much in the minority. Additionally, the recent dips into nearly freezing nights have caused the leaves to fall, creating a confetti-lined parade route.

I really wanted to keep riding, taking in the weather and views. Alas, work beckons.