Juniper, the Schwinn World Tour Commuter bicycle

All that remains behind her metamorphoses is a long and narrow corrugated cardboard beige box. She's in the corner, one hood lightly resting against the black and steel gray BBQ. It may be the light, but it looks as if she twinkling; her dark amber and forested green skin a sheen of earthy colors glowing softly under the isolated bulb overhead. The garage breathes life just by housing her within its womb.

Another stolen glance at her reveals more of her true form. She isn't dainty--not by a long shot--nor is she unpleasant to look at. Instead, her beauty is like that of Katherine Hepburn, a handsomely rugged beauty. She's remarkably well-proportioned, yet looks a good few inches taller than her actual height. Her top tube slopes ever so slightly from the well-cushioned seat into slightly larger-than-expected handlebars. Indeed, she appears to be more stylish workhorse than the conventional waif winners of late.

She was birthed into life late last night with the able hands of Le Boyfriend. While I remained buried in the dark corners of our office scribing and searching for a suitable maiden voyage for the fair bicycle, he steadfastly created her. Well into the twilight hours of the night did I finally hear him cry out, "And, it is done!" Leaving websites of Rails-to-Trails behind, I rushed to the garage. What I came upon was both a grisly, yet tender scene. Bike parts and casings and plastic wrap discarded in disheveled heaps surrounded the two of them. But I saw him with her, sweetly and lovingly caressing the fine cables, tweaking and truing them, coaxing smooth braking and shifting out of her; these things would be the final vestiges which would bring her to life and into my heart forever.

Juniper is her name, "a symbol of longevity, strength, athleticism, and fertility." [Wikipedia]

And today ... she rides.