5.
bottom of franklin hill
21 degrees / feels like 12
75% snow-covered
What a wonderful winter morning for a run! With the sun and my effort, it felt much warmer than it was. The snow wasn’t slippery or deep and made a delightful crunching noise as I stepped down. The river was open again and dark brown. And the birds were so loud — not seen only heard. Mostly I ran on the bike path. Encountered some runners, walkers, dogs, at least 2 bikers, and at least one person smoking on a bench.
a new ritual
Like most of my rituals, this one began with little intention. I decided last week to stop at an inviting bench to check out the view for a moment and now I’m doing it every time I’m returning south from the trestle or beyond. The bench is facing the river and above the white sands beach. At one time I’m sure it was farther from the slope, but not it’s right on the edge. How long before it falls in? Today, while I was looking down at the river, I felt a blur of movement. What was it? Did I imagine it? I waited for a moment and then I saw a dog and their human through the bare trees, walking at the beach. They looked so far away and alone.
10 Things
- elementary school kids yelling and laughing out on the school field — such energy unleashed — wow
- small prints in the snow
- a truck speeding by, revving its engine on a bend in the road
- 2 or 3 stones stacked on the boulder, covered in snow
- a thin ribbon of bare pavement on the edge of the trail
- the feel of my feet sliding slightly as I ran down the snow-covered hill
- my faint shadow, just ahead of me, only visible occasionally
- the slabs of stone still stacked up under the franklin bridge, looking like a person
- all the steps down into the gorge are blocked off with chains
- a clump of dead leaves at the top of a tree looking like a monster nest