Mirror

Yesterday I was riding my motorcycle around a corner and saw myself. There is a big plant nursery there and as I was accelerating I glanced to my right. A scene registered in a fraction of a second. A couple of parents were busy shopping for shrubbery and in tow was a boy of seven or eight years old. I can imagine he was bored out of his mind. His eyes locked on me and my bike, tracked like a weapon radar, and in them I saw myself at that age. I remember that wonder in his imagination and longing in his soul and after a hundred thousand miles or so on motorcycles over a lifetime, I was still experiencing the magic he dreamed of at that very moment. I wish I had much more to give. I would love to take every boy with those kinds of eyes and get him on a bike, put his hands on the bars, and let him feel a strong motor pull him through the gears. Or get him up in a plane to feel the wings bank and dive and climb at the whim of his hands on the controls. I think maybe I’m going to make an okay grandpa.