Cold Night in Bridgeport

This morning I was out in the cold. It was 27 degrees Fahrenheit and I was in a nice warm car. I was turning from Petaluma Hill Road onto East Cotati Ave., on my way for a hot cup of coffee. That’s when I saw a guy on an Electra Glide heading in the other direction. I knew he was cold and I began to reflect on times when I have been riding in the cold.
The attached photo is in Bridgeport, California. Bridgeport is on Hwy 395, which runs through some of the most beautiful and wild territory these United States. It’s harsh country and sparsely populated.

My friend Greg and I arrived about midnight and the temperature was in the high twenties. As you can see from the photo I did not have a very warm jacket and you can tell from the color of my nose that I am cold.

Oddly enough this photo was taken outside of a bar.

San Quentin Toy Run, The Little Girl

As we walked to the toy drop off, I saw her; she was about four or five years old. She saw the box I was carrying, which had a princess outfit in it. I can still see the look on her face, she imagined herself a princess wearing the shimmery dress and the tiara and shoes with diamonds and rubies. She imagined herself special and wonderful.
Her mother saw this too and knew that she would not be a princess. Her mother knew that her daughter’s life would be very different than the dreams of a little girl. Her mother picked her up and turned her away to distract her from the coming disappointment.
I was supposed to take the presents to the community center where the presents would be distributed to the children. So I did not walk over to the little girl and give it to her. I didn’t think fast enough. I didn’t think well enough and the opportunity was gone. Why didn’t I just walk over and say, “This is for you.”