The first time I arrived in the City everyone was sweltering in summer heat, cussing and swearing off the feeling of hot air. The second time it was nuking rain and a few weeks later when I moved to the City of Philadelphia it was the beginning of what would become the worst winter on record. More snow would fall on the streets of Philadelphia that year than any other time in the city's life. During that time the buildings and roads were soft like pillows, the trash buried in a consistent blanket of cleanliness and it was quiet. The tires of my bike whirred through the snow with a gentle "Shhhhh." Rarely would the streets be free of cars and a ride through the center of the country's once (now fifth) largest city be so apparently peaceful. I would eventually find that flow, that genuine relaxed feel and joy of biking again in a city of swashbuckling and thievery but in the most delicate and unexpected of ways. I rode my bike every day for 4 seasons and this is what I learned...(photo: South Street Phildelphia)
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