4.25 miles
locks and dam no.1 hill and back
50 degrees
wind: 13 mph/ 25 mph gusts
Warmer, windier. Ran straight into it heading south towards the falls. It didn’t howl or swirl the leaves but once it almost took off my hat. And it pushed against me, making it harder to run. I didn’t mind. At the start of the run, I felt a little stiff — especially my neck — but by the halfway point I had loosened up.
I noticed the river several times: Sometimes it was silver sparkle, other times tin or pewter, and it was ridged or scaled from the wind. I decided to run down the hill at the locks and dam no. 1 to get closer to the water. Inspired by AO’s Dart (see below), I wanted to hear the trails of scales and the bells just a level under listening. Did it sound like anything? If it did, the sounds were forgotten as I turned around and climbed the hill. A few steps in I stopped to take in the wide blue view of the river from this angle. It took up almost all of my sight: blue undulations
11 Things
- the long shadow of a slender tree cast across the part of the path that dips below the road
- an orange sweatshirt on a walker emerging from the winchell trail
- squaring my shoulders and running into a stiff wind
- 2 people under the ford bridge near the locks and dam no. 1, about to climb up somewhere
- the bright white base of the locks and dam no. 1 sign — they must use reflective paint
- the benches above the edge of the world and near folwell were empty
- the low hum of playing kids on the school playground
- the flat top of a recently made stump: orange
- a white patch in the river near the shore — was it a chunk of ice? a sandbar?
- a tailwind as I returned north — not feeling the wind but its absence and that everything was easier
- added a few hours later: a creaking above from one tree branch rubbing another in the wind
Listened to leaves shimmering in the trees as I ran south, my “Doin’ Time” playlist as I ran back north. Most memorable song, “Once in a Lifetime”:
Same as it ever was, same as it ever was
Same as it ever was, same as it ever was
Same as it ever was, same as it ever was
Same as it ever was, same as it ever was
Water dissolving and water removing
There is water at the bottom of the ocean
Under the water, carry the water
Remove the water from the bottom of the ocean
Water dissolving and water removing
Letting the days go by, let the water hold me down
Letting the days go by, water flowing underground
Into the blue again, into the silent water
Under the rocks and stones, there is water underground
I never realized before how much water is used in this song. Very cool! The same as it ever was is an interesting contrast to what I was reading earlier this morning: Heraclitus and his idea of never stepping into the same river twice — see 17 march 2023
possible lines to recite/chant
Rereading my 17 march 2022 entry, I encountered these wonderful lines from Dart about how the river sounds:
will you swim down and attend to this foundry for
sounds
this jabber of pidgin-river
drilling these rhythmic cells and trails of scales,
will you translate for me blunt blink glint.
the way I talk in my many-headed turbulence
among these modulations, this nimbus of words kept in
motion
sing-calling something definitely human,will somebody sing this riffle perfectly as the invisible
river
sings it
can you hear them at all,
muted and plucked,
muttering something that can only be expressed as
hitting a series of small bells just under the level of your
listening?
The bells!
High Above on the Ford Bridge Looking Down at the River
O, can you hear them
at all, these riffle-
perfect rhythmic cells
and trails of scales, plucked,
muted, muttering
below — a string of
small bells just under
the level of your
listening?
on moving — Alice Oswald and Cole Swensen
More words rediscovered while reading past entries in my “On This Day” practice:
I found this great quote from Oswald in her introduction to the poetry anthology, The Thunder Mutters: 101 Poems for the Planet:
Raking, like any outdoor work, is a more mobile, more many-sided way of knowing a place than looking. When you rake leaves for a couple of hours, you can hear right into the non-human world, it’s as if you and the trees had found a meeting point in the sound of the rake. (ix)
Mobile and many-sided, more than looking from a distance.
From Cole Swensen:
Then sitting still, we occupy a place; when moving through it, we displace place, putting it into motion and creating a symbiotic kinetic event in which place moves through us as well.
Walking/ Cole Swensen