I like how Jon Day in Cyclogeography used the verb ‘re-enchant’ (as in “re-enchant the world”) to describe the effect of a sculpture, entitled Cycling Sculpture, 1-3 December 1967 by Richard Long*. The greatness of word choice only shines through when you list down the things that were crossed out: words such as ‘refresh’ or ‘illuminate’ or ‘elevate’ could be easily (or sloppily) used, but re-enchant, I think, gives off that radiant quality, as if charged with magic, and it is faithful to the way art transports its immediate environment to another realm. Not only is the word usage outstanding – but it also wrests my association of “enchant” from the way it’s known by someone who grew up playing DotA, as something used for black magic alone. So yes, Saturdays are re-enchanted by morning runs, by the ten more hours pregnant with possibilities, and I am re-enchanted by great word usage, by the lanky old cyclist wearing a helmet embellished with cock feathers, his pocket radio blaring Bon Jovi: I wanna be just as close as the holy ghost is.*The sculpture Long did is unconventional: for three days he cycled around London to plant sticks into the ground as a way to ‘map’ his journey. Think of it as a prelude to the fitness app Strava. His stakes were placed in the least conspicuous areas such as farmlands.