Cove Island Park. 7:30 a.m. March 25, 2025. Check out the fog here.
Post title from Roisín O’Donnell’s Nesting: A Novel (Algonquin Books, February 18, 2025)
“untethered, like moonwalking”
Tag: fog
Monday Morning
I like this secret walking
in the fog;
unseen, unheard,
among the bushes thick with drops;
the solid path invisible
a rod away—
and only the narrow present is alive.
— Charles Reznikoff, from “Autobiography: Hollywood,” Going To and Fro and Walking Up and Down (1941), The Poems of Charles Reznikoff 1918–1975, ed. Seamus Cooney (Black Sparrow Press, 2005)
Photo @ 5:49 am this morning during my morning walk @ Cove Island Park. More photos from this morning’s walk here: Twilight series and Mist series. And what would the morning be without a time lapse to sunrise:
Walking. With Vemödalen.
To bed at 11 pm. Up at 3:30 a.m. The Stanley Cup Finals stealing two hours of sleep that I’ll never get back. 4.5 hours of sleep today. 5 hours yesterday. 4 hours the day before. Not sustainable.
I lay there staring at LED letters flickering on the ceiling. This projection coming from a new clock, this one complimentary from a retailer seeking to redress my stinging complaint on an Amazon review headlined: You get what you pay for.
Wally nuzzles up to me, sighs, and rolls over. I slide out from under the covers, dress quickly, grab the camera gear and drive.
I check my weather app: 71° F — 94% cloud cover — 6% chance of rain — Humidity, Southeast Asia immediately before a monsoon.
1509 consecutive (almost) days on this daybreak morning walk at Cove Island Park. Like in a row.
I pull in, there’s no one in the park. Correction. No one, except me and the Stamford City Park heavy machine operator combing the beaches, every morning. Yes, it’s intrusive, this large, John Deere Tractor scraping the earth, kicking up dust in all directions breaking the silence of the morning. Is this really necessary, beach combing?
Continue reading “Walking. With Vemödalen.”Like the moon in the morning — all firmament, beautiful, about to vanish.
Notes:
- Post Title: “The way a deer emerges from a thicket is the opposite of a wound. Like the moon in the morning — all firmament, beautiful, about to vanish. Each morning I walk out my apartment & wonder what is going to become of me.” — Devin Kelly, “Deer on the Side of an American Highway,” published in drDOCTOR
- DK @ Daybreak. 4:58 am, May 20, 2022. 52° F. Cove Island Park, Stamford, CT. More photos from this mornings walk here.
Sunday Morning
DK @ Daybreak. 6:30 a.m. to 7:30 a.m., October 24, 2021. 43° F. Cove Island Park, Stamford, CT. (@dkct25 on Instagram)