BEFRIENDED a roadrunner on my bike ride up Rose Hill this morning. This is not a dream. I actually met a roadrunner. Ok, maybe befriended is too strong a word, but we definitely had a moment together.
My favorite morning bike ride in Palm Springs is through the Las Palmas neighborhood up toward Rose Hill. It’s uphill most of the way, and the last leg of it is quite steep, steep enough that I have to stand up on my pedals and use my whole body to climb it.
But the payoff is amazing, because not only do I get to sit back on my bike seat and coast downhill, I get to coast downhill past the house where Marilyn Monroe used to live, then down through some of the world’s most beautiful mid-century architecture on a sunny desert morning. That’s where I met the roadrunner, grinding my way up Rose Hill.
When you meet a roadrunner in person, you realize how accurately the Roadrunner cartoon character captures its personality, if not its exact appearance. The birds, which I just learned are a type of cuckoo, which makes perfect sense, have an oddly playful, alert posture, and they’re always seemingly running, even when they’re walking. It’s like they’re always one step ahead of you, literally and metaphorically. They’re a little bit faster than you are, especially if you’re a coyote.
When you meet a roadrunner in person, you realize how accurately the Roadrunner cartoon character captures its personality, if not its exact appearance. The birds, which I just learned are a type of cuckoo, which makes perfect sense, have an oddly playful, alert posture, and they’re always seemingly running, even when they’re walking. It’s like they’re always one step ahead of you, literally and metaphorically. They’re a little bit faster than you are, especially if you’re a coyote.