Month: November 2024

nov 2/RUN

6.1 miles
hidden falls loop
54 degrees

Sunny and warm! Ran in the afternoon in shorts and a short-sleeved shirt. What a view! Running over the ford bridge, I enjoyed looking at the river — almost flat, dark blue, small ripples that made me think, and not for the first time, of fish scales. There wasn’t much wind, just enough to create the fish scale effect. The bluff on the way to hidden falls was open and broad and beautiful — so much air! so far above the valley floor! Near hidden falls I heard some kids’ voices below.

10 Things

  1. running past the new skateboarding park, seeing a group of people skating, hearing some funky music playing from somewhere — a phone?
  2. 2 skateboarders attempting to do tricks on the path
  3. a runner ahead of me in a bright yellowish-green shirt
  4. a fat tire! biking on the bridge
  5. running through wabun, hearing chain links rattle from a frisbee on the frisbee golf course
  6. yesterday I mentioned the stinky mulch on the side of path had been removed — nope, still there, still stinky
  7. my shadow beside me, faint in the afternoon light
  8. a small tree with bright orange leaves
  9. looking far down at the ground, noticing the all the rocks around the bridge
  10. something in a tree that looked like a big owl to me but must have been a balloon or a bag or a dark sweatshirt

nov 1/RUN

5.6 miles
ford loop
40 degrees

I overdressed this morning in a long-sleeved shirt, sweatshirt, tights and gloves. The sun was warmer than I thought. Most of the leaves are off the trees and on the ground. The ravine near Shadow Falls was a beautiful rusty red. The thin creek running through it shimmered in spots.

It helped to get outside and be beside the gorge. It’s an exhausting time. Both of my kids are supposed to be in college this semester, neither of them are. They are each working on their mental health. It’s hard to see them suffer. On top of that, the impending election is terrifying. While I ran, I forgot about all of this.

10 Things

  1. the bells of St. Thomas tolling twelve times as I crested the Summit hill
  2. 2 small bowls on a neighbor’s front steps, filled with full-sized reese’s peanut butter cups
  3. a man walking a dog listening to talk radio without headphones — I couldn’t tell if it was about politics or sports
  4. water falling softly from shadow falls
  5. the river from lake street bridge: gray, rippled, a shimmering line of light near the east shore
  6. a graffitied port-a-potty with the jar very slightly ajar — was it open, or was the door unable to fully close?
  7. the trees on the west side of the river near locks and dam no. 1 were bare and a fuzzy brown
  8. the sudden start of sirens close by — a fire truck coming up the hill from the locks
  9. the stinky mulch that had been piled on the edge of the path was gone
  10. an opening on the bluff — what a view of the river and the other side!

Yes, That’s When/ Rosemerry Wahtola Trommer

I like my body when I’m in the woods
and I forget my body. I forget that arms,
that legs, that nose. I forget that waist,

that nerve, that skin. And I aspen. I mountain.
I river. I stone. I leaf. I path. I flower.
I like when I evergreen, current and berry.

I like when I mushroom, avalanche, cliff.
And everything is yes then, and everything
new: wild iris, duff, waterfall, dew.