When did you last travel through the world at a height of 3 feet?
I’m guessing you were 6 years old.
One of the surprising delights of riding a recumbent tricycle is that the seat is only about a foot off the ground. That means little kids of about 6 or 7 look me in the eye when I’m seated in it. Anyone older than that is looking down on me.
Adults on bikes? They’re giants. I reach up to shake hands. They lean over and down. Just like when I was 6.
The sensation of travelling through the world with eyes at the 3 foot level triggers some deep, childish delight.
Everything on the ground is so much closer, so much more accessible. I’m easily distracted by the variety of flowers, the diversity of colours, the flitting of insects and the darting of butterflies.
Perhaps it’s because at 3 feet, you are so much closer to the world inhabited by flowers and insects.
Travel by trike with trailer is slow travel. Especially crawling up long hills. Even the butterflies make faster progress.
This is travel that breaks the sound barrier, though. Or perhaps more accurately, it is slow travel that breaks the silence barrier.
There’s nothing between you and the world. No windshield. No radio. No hermetically sealed cabin. No thick shell to suppress against road noise.
There is no road noise. Just the swish, swish, swish of a pant leg with each pedal I push. And the barely audible, rolling thunder sound of the trailer dutifully following along in my wake.
Sounds take on a different dimension. Cyclists and hikers know this phenomenon. The birdsong, the buzz, the chirps, the hum, the croaks that comprise nature’s chorus. Moving at three feet from the ground, you can’t help but catch snatches of creation’s hymn.
Plan B* has been re-discovering the world from a new perspective – like the perspective of those who are 6 and those who are lucky to be 6 a second time.