Riding home, I wonder where everyone has gone, because the road is empty, the sky is quiet, and it's just me and my flatland fixed gear commuter rolling along. In the still air of a hot afternoon, not much is even moving out there. The bike is setup and tuned well enough that the loudest sound it makes is the tires rolling along the pavement, which change pitch noticeably, trending towards silence, when I roll onto newly paved blacktop. The pannier sometimes rubs and squeaks against the frame when I roll over bumps, a distraction I want to remove, somehow. Riding headlong into the low sun. I'm fixated on the clear sky, perhaps raised in my awareness because of the stillness, nothing to distract or detract, and I wonder what it would look like with my handlebars and frame interposed. When I stop to see if something can be done about the squeaky pannier, I just hold the camera low to give me the view, then check the playback. Angles and lines, somehow startling and calm at the same time. Cool. I ride on and the pannier still squeaks. My solution: avoid the bumps, riding on smoother roads. If only. As if. That's sky bars, lines, and the quiet ride home.