3.1 miles
trestle turn around
66 degrees
humidity: 89%
Forgot to look for the river again today. Instead saw lots of green. A few slashes of light purple. What are those wildflowers? Green with purple all over the edge of the path. Didn’t hear any rowers. Car after car after car passing me on the river road. No birds or annoying squirrels. No rollerbladers or roller skiers. No Daily Walker.
“Babel“
Kimberly Johnson
My God, it’s loud down here, so loud the air
is rattled. Who with the hissing of trees,
the insect chatter, can fix devotion
on holy things, the electrical bugs
so loud the air is stunned, windy the leaves’
applause redoubled by the clapping wings
of magpies? Who with their whispered psalm
can outvoice their huckster cackle, the trees
blustered to howls while the tesla bees
whine loudly to the shocked air? O who
can think of heaven in such squall, shrill wind
of trees, magpie wings, and throats in fracas,
the bluebottle static, the air stupid
with the shrieks of devils,— of angels,—
who in such squall can think of anything
but heaven?
Love this description of the noisy outdoors and the air, which feels so much about it all: rattled, stunned, shocked, stupid. And those hissing, applauding, blustering trees!