If all of July is like this, I’ll be a happy cyclist. My Italian friend Vigorelli Bianchi and I did
22 morning miles. The air and light had a crystalline quality more usual In October than summer. The cherry crop looks splendid, 
loading the trees so heavily that in places the branches bowed low near enough to the road that I could almost have plucked the fruit as I rode by. This is the stage at which cherry growers pray for no rain.
Thinners are in the apple trees making room for the fall fruit to develop. Th
e orchards have all the earmarks of a bumper apple crop.
Fruit workers waved and smiled as I passed, approaching motorists nodded and lifted fingers from their steering wheels in greeting, dogs barked more out of a sense of duty than intent to pursue, and not one pickup truck tried to run me into the ditch. It was one of those rides when I felt stronger at the end than the beginning. It was great out there.
I had to tell someone.