Dried flowers

© Charles George 

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Spa day

© Joselito Briones

When every wash day is a spa day, courtesy of Charles.

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Riding on a feeling

© Joselito Briones

In the summer of 1974, the preschool kids in my neighborhood learned riding a bicycle together.  There were 5 or 6 of us.  My brother Uwel took it upon himself to teach us.  The school, the designated training spot about ten houses from our house, adjacent to open rice fields, was still closed for the summer season.

I was late to learn about what was going on. Everybody was  already in the school grounds when I got there.  Jojo and Toto had their turns. Then everybody else.  I was jealous.  By the time my turn came, it was getting dark. We did one quick round of me riding poorly then we went home. 

We never got to finish the training.

  

A few days on, I discovered that as long as I could keep my self vertical on the bike with my feet on standby by my sides, still barely on the ground’s sloping  driveway I can just let go and let the bike roll by itself.  Doing it several times, i saw t could just rest my feet on the pedal, then the pedal was just a matter of going through the motions.

The next day, full of confidence, I proudly mounted the bike in the middle of the street. Perfect balance.

Only it won’t go. Tried and tried but, no.

Out of nowhere, Uwel yelled, “RELEASE THE BREAK!“ 

I did, and lo and behold. 

(Soundtrack: Hallelujah!)

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