Time means nothing on an adventure - Greeting card

Time means nothing now. It slips away as easily as grains of sand on a wind-swept beach. But those grains only trade places. On my bike, I change the same way—new locations in the passage of time. The pedaling is incidental—like breathing. The hills and mountains come and go -- my legs powering over them in a kind of winsome trance. Grappling with headwinds only brings determination; while riding a tail wind brings ecstasy. There is a transformation into a state of bliss, much like a seagull gliding on the updrafts. I see them standing on beaches or soaring over the waves. Just flying. Just living. Just being. Me too.