Crested Outrage

Rode my bike up the steep streets of Woodland Hills this afternoon, feeling good but a little saddle sore after yesterday's ride, the first of the spring, up to where the asphalt ends and then, muscles not happy at all and breathing like a hippo running at altitude, I turned up the steep dirt road leading to the town's water tanks and fought my way up, 10 feet, then another 10, keeping my gaze down at the front tire so I wouldn't be disheartened by how much of the hill remained. At the top, my front tire on the lip of the snow still heavy on the mountain rising up ahead, I listened to the raspy sharp outrage of a jay and looked up to see a Stellar's jay against the sky, black, blue, and crested and not happy at all at the intrusion.