Happy Hippy

Driving home recently I passed a man riding a bike barefoot and helmetless. His stringy blond hair was long and unkempt, and he peddled slowly as one hand clutched a recent bakery purchase. He munched some sort of bread stick that he had positioned to stick out above the bag. He was headed in the general direction of the beach, and I could easily picture a surfboard tied haphazardly to his bike. His whole essence screamed aging hippy to me, and it made me smile. He seemed quite contented.