4.35 miles
47th ave loop*
46 degrees
Deaths from COVID-19: 30 (MN)/ 10,524 (US)
*a new loop for this year: Edmund Bvld, south (or, if really early and uncrowded on river road trail)/grass just after 42nd to Becketwood to short stretch of paved trail/cross 44the Edmund/Right on 47th/right on 44th/right on short paved trail to Becketwood to grass/Edmund Bvld, north/left on 32nd/left on 43rd
Started at 8:30 this morning and there was hardly anyone out near the gorge! Decided to risk it and run south on the river road trail. I encountered two other people–both walkers, both respectful of the need for distance. It makes such a difference to be out there alone! It was overcast. The river was not shimmering or sparkling. I couldn’t tell if it had ice on it or foam or what. Ran past a solitary bench overlooking the gorge and thought how nice it would be to sit there and watch the river. Heard a woodpecker. Some workers laying fiber internet lines. 2 bikers on the road. Some cars–after I passed it, one car started honking. Not sure why. Was someone biking on the wrong side? Were they saying hello? I always have trouble understanding honks. Did some triple berry chants for a while. Also, recited “Auto-lullaby” and my variation, “Pandemic Lullaby.” Decided that my line: “think of a tree stump/housing a gnome” would fit better as “think of a tree stump/that houses a gnome.” Now that I’m saying it again, I think it should actually be: “think of a stump/housing a gnome”
surfaces
The new route I’ve been trying during this social-distance era has many different surfaces: street, sidewalk, dirt path, grass, shoulder, curb, asphalt trail. Smooth, rough, wet, slanted, uneven, muddy, gritty, high, low, full of divots, leaf-covered, cracked, pot-holed, narrow, wide. Straight, curved, up, down, partially blocked.
from “The Victorious Ones”/ Chris Nealon
Then came fire
It wasn’t yet a new world, or the end of the old one
But water, money, feeling overspilled their banks
There was finally something real to be afraid of
There was finally no reason to fear
Even animals approached us as they hadn’t in ten thousand years
Buildings were either shelter or they weren’t
Music got quiet
And poetry—
Poetry began to ask the question it had hidden in the forest
Poetry returned to lists, enumeration, inventory
It chose sides
This was not the same as prophecy
Look around you now and ask yourself
Which of these—
The innovators, profit-makers, the ones behind high walls,
The ones who are planning for the great catastrophes—
Or the ones with no ability to plan,
Who live from hour to hour, year to year,
In whom terror waits to be uncurdled,
Who live in the great wide world—
Which of these will be the victorious ones?
Nobody knows.
Love this line: “Poetry began to ask the question it had hidden in the forest.”