By the Ottawa River, the wind picked up as the sky grew dark.
It has happened, while biking home, that it’s rained so hard that it stung my hands and so filled my eyes that I couldn’t see.
Near this part of the river, there’s a bend on the bike path that if you don’t turn sharply you’ll end up in the water, on the rocks.
I’ve approached this bend blinking madly to see more than a few feet in front. I slow down but there’s so much water that sometimes I skid. So far, I haven’t ended up in the river.