It rained this morning: that cold, wet, miserable rain that can only mean it is April in Maine.

I was holding 40, hunched behind the windshield, seeking vision through rain speckled windshield and faceplate.  Ha!

On my way to get some blood drawn to see if the radiation was killing my thyroid.

Cancer has a way of messing with your life.

Did I mention I was grumpy?

Go figure.

Fortunately, the sun did make an appearance, and with it shining nice and warm upon my face, I decided to toss the lousy attitude and go for what my blog title preaches: Scooter for fun.  So, off I went, riding along the shoreline, warm and toasty, AND dry, and having a good time.

As I rode along, I rounded a nice bend and noticed this sign:

Now, how can you refuse such a neat invitation?

Screeched to a halt, jumped off, and headed for the deep, dark woods.

There's something special about a forest – even a small one such as this.  Things take on a different hue, a special color, a different focus.  Wandering along, one sees things differently than one would see walking down a tree-lined street.  Everything looks..... different.

There are so many shades of black and white.  Silly.  Black is black and white is white.  Still, the whites are not really grey, the blacks not really midnight....

Perhaps it is the eye that confounds one, or the mood.  Whatever it is, to me the woods toss-out the word "real" and serve-up "wonder".

Even rock walls wander between mild and bright, dark and brilliant, while fallen trees toss splashes of black amongst their laid-back, mild hue.

You know, this being Maine, no matter where you are, sooner or sooner, you'll reach the ocean: usually sooner.  It will creep in, peeking in now and again, through the thick boughs.

And unless you turn quickly...

There you are.

The ocean.

Ah, it's always a treat to find one's self tossed upon the beach, so to speak.  There you were, one moment lost amongst the magical land of shades and lightness, and suddenly, here you are among the land of brightness, even harshness.

But wait!  Strewn amongst the never-ending stones, tucked deep and oft-times safely, within and among the piles of grey, live delightful treasures...

All you need do is seek...

...these little bits of magic: Wondrous sea glass.

These collected, I stood, ready to saddle-up and head for home – a new man.  Calm, cool and collected.  That's what scootering does for you.

As I walked away from the shoreline, I noticed a tree trunk that had been playing at the shore's edge for many years.  The Sun, wind and sea had all contributed toward sculpting the trunk such that it now looked like a microcosm of the world within which it frolicked.

To me, wind, sand and sea were etched upon the trunk: here a beach,  there a wave, breaking upon a rock-strewn shore; a microcosm of the world without.

I walked back to my scooter.  Hopped on, and scootered off in the general direction of home.

Not bad.  The Sun was warm, the road dry and beckoning.  Time to continue Scootering for Fun.