Thank you Beth.
Tag: good
Walking. Pulled forward by Good.
It’s 2 a.m., and Wally’s licking my arm: “Sorry Dad,” he says, “Gotta go.” “Jesus, Wally, now?” And that was the end of that.
I turn to the morning papers, blog posts and RSS feeds. Kaveh Akbar’s words echo: “Time flattens everything. Family, duty, whatever…There’s something comforting about that, something vast and, yes, inescapable. Like bright ink spilling over everything at once.”
I pull into the parking lot. Sigh, another day, another walk.
1502 consecutive (almost) days on my Cove Island Park morning walk. Like in a row.
I walk.
Eyes burn, fatigue has set in.
65° F, 10 mph winds from the north — I immediately regret not bringing a windbreaker. Left it resting on the front seat of the car.
I’m dragging my a** around the track, directly into the headwinds. Shiver. I could turn back, walk ¼ mile to the car, and grab the jacket. But that simple turn, a few hundred steps back, just seemed to be too much.
Continue reading “Walking. Pulled forward by Good.”Walking. With a very little blow.
1,488 consecutive (almost) days that I’ve been on this daybreak walk at Cove Island Park. 12 days from 1,500 — more than four years of this Thing.
“And life slips by like a field mouse
Not shaking the grass.” – Ezra Pound
But before I leave the house, I flip through the morning papers. I know better, I do. But can’t seem to resist the rubbernecking. Ukraine. Israel. Gaza. Washington cesspool. China. Russia. North Korea. All feels dark and getting darker – the world’s shadows deepen.
“I could feel hope traveling backward to find us,
to whisper into our chests,
There will be music for you one day.” — Andrea Gibson
Weather app reads 59° F (?), but there’s a brisk wind from the North. Am I in Greenland? Glad I wore a jacket, I zip up.
I walk.
4:30 am. Wildlife is up. Smallest birds with the loudest voices break the silence of early morning. 4 other insomniacs are out sharing this twilight hour, each lost in their own quiet rhythm.
“Birdsong, wind, and waves.
It requires nothing more than to meet noise with stillness
and not commentary.” – Martin Laird
I walk.
Continue reading “Walking. With a very little blow.”Walking. A morning walk on a dreary day…
Here we are. Last day of 2022. I crawl out of bed, both knees are throbbing, why? Doris Lessing: “But you just do not believe that you’re going to be old. People don’t realize how quickly they’re going to be old, either. Time goes very fast.” Truth Doris, truth.
970 consecutive (almost) days on this daybreak walk to Cove Island Park. Like in a row. And it’s a dreary morning. Dreariness lines up with the morning news. Bombing strikes on civilian infrastructure in Ukraine. More civilians dead. More civilians without power. It’s winter. It’s cold.
I walk.
I’m having to work to lift the camera off the shoulder. Blah…spoiled after a run of “money” sunrises this week.
I walk to the tip of the point, and stop to look out over the water. I stare at the bench, think about sitting down, and don’t. Body says yes, Mind refuses to walk over and sit. Will not do it.
A 2-man kayak comes round the corner, the most excitement I’ve seen this morning. I reach for the camera.
“Good morning” the man in the rear shouts. I let go of the camera. I reply in kind. Continue reading “Walking. A morning walk on a dreary day…”
Monday Morning Wake-Up Call
“Why can’t people see the good things in front of them?”
“They think they have time for it later.”
— List (2011) (via CinemaBravo)