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The old boy walked the bike out the door of his house in Little Rock and
into Heaven, aka autumn in Arkansas. In all its burning-tree glory.
It was hard to tell which golden view high above the winding Arkansas River he preferred. One after another, the great oaks were turning into splendor. He knew others would burst forth any day. He tried to pick a favorite tree on his route. He decided it would be the next one to turn. As with all good things, anticipation may be the sweetest part.
It had been hot, dry summer...
Ecclesiastes on a Bicycle