I went for my first ride yesterday.  It was a slow ride on this quietest of all days, meandering, almost deliberate, with Isabella taking advantage of the heated day.  The ride lingered into the evening, even after.  My friend Jim Buchwald, on his Egli-Vincent, took the lead on this Decoration Day, as he still calls it.  We meandered through lovely and peaceful Ohio backroads through Killbuck and Nelly, Danville and Glenmont, Wakatomika and Walhonding.  Flags everywhere, small and large.  Noted the country close-up, an assembly of good living men moved by a single spirit.  Had a sandwich in a park, watched children prepare for a parade, dragging their tubas around.  Dropped Jim off near Mt. Vernon, then headed home, stopping at two cemeteries to pay my respects, give what honor I could to the dead.  Pulled up to my mother's house for dinner, found her sitting on the porch holding her dog, large flag flowing softly, contemplating peace.  She understands the meaning of this day and is filled with gratitude, as am I.