Well, to say that I am disappointed would be an understatement. How could I lose something that captured so well, the fun and excitement of such a memorable day? I am not despondent, nor am I mad. But I am definitely saddened that I could never send out to my friends, the original story of a simple bike ride in the hills of Germany. It may sound ordinary, but unforeseen to me it was an irreplaceable experience.
And, I am really upset to find that after more than a decade, I lost the story. Careless you think? Not this time. The written pages were set aside for a good reason. Oh, I spent a lot of time checking my files searching for the document. I checked all my old computer files. I checked my home documents. I checked my deleted files. And, I checked adjacent files. I even checked my sock drawer where I sometimes put important papers. Nothing. I searched multiple times over a period of years, but finally came to the realization that the words were lost.
Sure, I remember writing it. As a matter of fact, I remember parts of the day almost as if it were yesterday. There is something about a first time experience. Somehow it is not just unique, but superior, distinct.
It was a perfect early September day and I was in the old capital of Saxony. Finally, after a long, exhausting week of work and travel, after long meetings and late flights, I was on the threshold of a free weekend. So, I was planning a half-day bike ride along the river path to explore the more scenic aspects of the countryside. You see, Dresden lies right on the Elbe River and after near total destruction in WW II the city has re-emerged as a wonderful destination for touring.
I had no real expectations for that day other than to relax and enjoy the free time. Well, the ride turned into something extraordinary and exceeded my meager expectations. The peddling was easy; almost like sitting in a chair watching other lives flow by. Not only was it relaxing and scenic, but it brought about a mood within me that was exhilarating. I had no intention of even writing about the day, but as lunchtime approached, my head was overflowing with images that I wanted to capture.
I wanted to capture the silent but powerful flow of the Elbe River; the vertical stone cliffs shooting toward the sky challenging the invading trees for supremacy; the scores of soccer fields laid out along the levee as far as I could see; and the quaint red roofed houses nestled in the hamlets. Even the riverboat Kurort Rathen made a singular impression as it churned against the flow and loudly blew its klaxon. These are the kind of things that define the simple beauty of this former East German city.
Well, these are the memories still in my head, but alas, a bit faded over time. After all, it’s been more than a decade since that sunny day. Now, I will admit, my memory is not what it used to be. I certainly don’t have the recollection for most of the detail of that day. The old photos help, but do not allow me to capture the feelings that were so vivid at the time.
How does a simple bike ride stir up such strong emotions? Was it because it represented an end to an innocent time in the world? No wonder I am disappointed in losing the old files containing my story.
I remember stopping at a small pub along the bike path for lunch. Eagerly I asked the waitress for a paper and pencil so I could capture my thoughts before they escaped. She didn’t speak much English and my German was worse. So naturally, I spoke louder and repeated my request. Somehow we laughed and connected and I was able to scribble some notes to revisit later. I don’t remember what I had for lunch, but the Konnigsberg beer was great. Is it even possible to have a bad beer in Germany?
Anyway, later that evening I took out my notes and composed a brief story of the day. I worked on it again on Sunday and refined some of the clumsy phrases. I wanted to take at least one more crack at the finished story before sharing it with my friends. So, I decided to give it a rest and wait until Tuesday to get a fresh read and perspective.
But, time waits for no one. Time can be a blessing, or it can be cruel. I was never able to send this script to anyone. I just couldn’t. It wasn’t right. Oh, the words were fine. Even the day before, I was excited and eager to send it. But that day had come and gone. Tuesday was another day, a different day. Shortly after 3:00 on that Tuesday afternoon everything had changed. It was 9:00AM in New York City. I knew I would never send my story. And now those simple words are lost and the world has changed forever.
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