It seems to work out perfectly from year to year that over the Memorial Day weekend I can just ride and ride. Everything falls into place, the freedom and the soft weather, the smell of the flowers, the small flags in cemeteries (and other odd things), the easy moving people, who, if willing to talk, will only do so quietly. I’m in and out of small towns and smaller cemeteries. People are getting together, in public places and even in parades or at their homes, but somehow all is quiet, I never see any rowdies making fools of themselves. Maybe all this has to do with the reason for the holiday and its history maybe its just the knowledge and sense that we are remembering those men who die in battle, die too young, die before they should. A reflective and quiet and sacred day, filled with gratitude.