As my husband and I were waiting at a traffic light, I spied the most spectacular sight. A man, riding his bicycle, sporting the most magnificent handlebar moustache I have ever seen. I could not help but stare as he passed by my window. A slight tip of his head and he was gone, now just a reflection in my side mirror.
"Good-bye Man With the Magnificent Moustache!" I whispered.
I asked my husband if he saw him. Yes, he did.
"Was that not the most incredible moustache?"
I guess? Oh, it was.
He was perched perfectly on the seat, his back straight and his legs swooping in large circles as he peddled. His hands gripped the handlebars just so. Not too tightly, not to casually. The better to navigate through traffic safely.
His face wore the wrinkles that only a good, hard-working life can give. His hair was gray, as was the moustache, speckled here and there with the darker version from his youth. Shoes, worn and soft. I bet they are his favorite pair. His jacket wrapped about him like an old friend and his cap had settled itself upon his head seamlessly. It was a part of him. I could have watched him forever.
I think that I have discovered the perfect hobby- observing. It requires nothing more than a pair of eyes and time. Oh, and a good memory, so that you can go home and write about what you have seen.
Observation is much better when shared with others.