But that bike not only had a rather sweet-sounding bell; it also had a history. It had seen much of the beauty of New England as well as the highways and byways of Old England and Scotland on a memorable trip in 2010. That bike had taken my children to school and me to work, except on the rare occasions when the weather was just too bad. It had been grocery shopping, visiting friends and family, to restaurants in the city and to shows in Harvard Square. It had been to the fireworks on the Esplanade every year and had crossed Boylston Street just before the Boston Marathon bombings.
I am retiring next year and moving to Cape Cod. Unless my bike miraculously returns, I will have to buy a new one, since I understand that there is a pretty decent bike trail there.
A final word of caution to whoever took my bike: Please be careful riding it, since I notice that you did not take the helmet too.