Though the putative cause of my accident was a bicycle fall (the real reason was that my heart gave out), I am already contemplating a cycling again. The visit may however have to be delayed at least until we return home to Canada (where I will in any event have my trusty Electra Townie in store) because our Canadian health insurer has made it clear that if I suffer any further lung or rib ailments while in Florida I will have to endure any resulting medical/financial storms on my own account. Considering the last episode cost $289,000 just for the hospital care for the lung and rib problems (not including the physicians or anything subsequently related to the Pacemaker surgery) I am understandably cautious. While I don't for a minute imagine that I will suffer another collapse of my heart, it is nonetheless possible that I might fall from a bike for some other reason. As such I have resigned during our tenure on the peninsula to seek my matutinal exercise by walking (something frankly I detest). In spite of this less than enthusiastic disposition I have to say that I relished my slow progress today towards the beach access (which we have calculated from previous outings is exactly 0.4 miles from the condominium).
This particular access marks the commencement of a "vehicle free" area of the beach which continues almost all the way southward along the edge of Wilbur-by-the-Sea to Ponce Inlet (where the traffic is once again permitted for a short distance to the rock pier which is the end of this barrier island). Not that it matters but it was about at that latter point that I had my bicycle accident on February 10th last. I can't say that that event was horribly memorable (in fact I have no memory of it at all - I just passed out) but certainly I recall with pleasure the many times I cycled along that route and rejoiced to see the rock pier and adjoining sand dunes.
In fact I confess I've lately been preoccupied with recollections of that appealing sort with some regularity. In the middle of the night - rather than anguishing or dreaming - I ponder encouraging memories of places we've been together, vivid portraits of journeys and sights. The thoughts are not confined merely to the many favourable views along the Atlantic Ocean; they include dalliances in Renfrew County and the Ivy Lea Club on the St. Lawrence Seaway. It is probably safe to say that my absorption is predominantly positive, something frankly I don't persue as a matter of choice but rather as a native inclination. Though I may one day eat my words I prefer to fashion myself as an optimist or at least someone who in the face of unpleasantness can dig himself out with gusto. In the meantime - before the unfortunate challenge of that particular day - I am obliged to concede that I haven't much if anything about which to complain. As I have oft repeated, life owes me nothing!