6 miles
hidden falls loop
48 degrees
wind: 30 mph gusts / Beaufort Scale: 3-4*
*a few days ago, Scott showed me how the weather app on our iPhones gives the average wind speed and a description of the Beaufort scale. Not today’s number on the scale; you have to figure that out yourself.
3-4 on the Beaufort scale. Between gentle and moderate breeze. Between Leaves and small twigs in constant motion; light flags extended. Large wavelets on sea and Raises dust and loose paper; small branches moved. Small waves, fairly frequent white horses. Between “Sailing” by Christopher Cross and “Dust in the Wind” by Kansas. Between I am stirred, I’m stir-able, I’m a wind-stirred thing (Carl Phillips) and The rising wind pulls you out of it,/and you look up to see a cloud of leaves/wheeling in sunlight, flickering against the blue/and lifting above the treetops, as if the whole day/were sighing, Let it go, let it go,/for this moment at least, let it all go (Jeffrey Harrison). (see my Beaufort Scales in Song and in Lines of Poetry at the end of this page). Between pulling my hat down (to make it more secure) and taking it off (so it wouldn’t fly over the bridge railing). Between leaves that shimmer and branches that creak and groan.
I ran into the wind at the start of my run, then it ran into me on the bridge. When I turned around, it was at my back.
A good run. I did 4 minutes run, 1 minute walk, but had some difficulty keeping track of the time. The bright sun made it hard to see the numbers of my watch face.
A beautiful, cool morning. I wore running tights and my bright orange sweatshirt, which I took off around mile 3. There are still lots of colorful leaves on the trees, but that won’t last long if we keep having this much wind! I was able to run up the wabun hill, over ford bridge, and to hidden falls. The short stretch of daylighted creek on the part of the trail that passes under the road, was gushing and rushing towards the ledge of hidden falls. A pleasing sound to hear. At the start of the run, the surface of the river was bright, glowing white. On the bridge, corrugated and gray. As I neared the new trail close to the double bridge, I would hear voices — so many voices! Young adults, older adults, kids. Was it a big group? An extended family? Just a lot of random people enjoying the sun and leaves on a Sunday morning? Whichever it was, I was glad I wasn’t down there and that I was able to pass before they emerged from the woods and into the light!