I don’t remember how or when I first felt it.

That feeling of freely gliding above the ground — or rather, along it, on two wheels. The moment my father quietly let go of the seat, and I, believing I was still being held, kept pedaling with confidence. Later, the little iron steed grew up, found its own voice and strength. I would wait for the right moment, when my father was busy, and sneak off through the city and its outskirts, already feeling the stronger currents of wind.

 

Much later, when I became a father myself, a two-wheeled beauty appeared again in my garage — white and turquoise, with gleaming chrome. I would ride it calmly along wide, sunlit avenues, catching admiring glances.

 

A motorcycle is a breed of its own.

It’s not four wheels and a roof overhead. No — a car is great too.

But this atmosphere around you, the scent of a forest road at dawn, the feeling of wings on a mountain serpentine overlooking a distant, shimmering sea…

That’s what a motorcycle gives you.

And a parachute… but that’s another universe. Later…

 

There are no rides without falls. With each one, you and your companion earn scrapes, bruises and… experience, confidence, and trust in each other.

 

Yes, once you meet, you’ll stay together. Just like I did.

 

In Heaven, bikes are nothing unusual. Sariel and Astrena are incredible fans of them.

 

We, Angels, descend and rush to help under the deep hum of an engine, on the wings of the wind, guided by the silent call of a soul.

 

We — Angels and bikers — greet each other. It’s a gesture everyone understands without words.

It doesn’t matter what kind of bike you ride. What matters is that there is a brotherhood of the road — not created by anyone, yet real — both earthly and heavenly at once. And you are a part of it.

 

Seems I drifted into my memories. They are warm and kind. They don’t call for sorrow — they simply seem to say:

“This is good. Let it go. It happened, and it will remain with you forever.”

 

Yes… let it go…