6.2 miles
ford loop
55 degrees
What a run! Such beautiful fall colors! Lots of orange, especially the tree near the double bridge in the 44th street parking lot. A light, glowing orange. Lots of yellow too. At the last minute, decided to do the ford loop–maybe it was because I could see how beautiful it was on the St. Paul side as I ran south on the west river parkway. After crossing over the bridge and heading north on the east river parkway, a man stopped to warn me that there was a coyote just ahead in someone’s yard. Luckily, I didn’t encounter it. But I did almost run into the spazziest squirrel I have ever seen. I surprised it and in its panic to run away it did a back flip. Yes, a back flip. The St. Paul side was amazing–sheltered from the wind and glowing in yellows and oranges with a few slashes of red. I think the gray, overcast sky made it look even better than sun would have. Ran up the short, steep summit hill and noticed the entrance to shadow falls park at the top. Almost wanted to stop and check it out, but it would have been way too muddy and slippery. Crossed back over to Minneapolis on the Lake Street bridge. Greeted the Daily Walker. Noticed how the trees above the ravine are becoming increasingly bare–leaves were falling as I ran by. This run is one of my favorite ones of the entire year.
Earlier this morning, encountered these wise words from Maggie Smith on twitter:
Think of the white space in poems—the breaks between stanzas; the part of the page untouched by language, an open field. How can you make room for white space in this day? In each day? Slow down, pause for breath, allow for silence, then continue. Keep moving.
Maggie Smith
As I work on the final haibun for my running route map project, I’ve been thinking about how important empty space is for breathing and how much that connects with open fields and open, leaf-less views. The green of spring and summer is sometimes too crowded/suffocating for me. I want fresh, clear, open air and open, uncluttered, far-reaching views. If I write a tightly packed prose poem about this idea, am I undercutting the value of white space? Should I try another form for this poem? Yes!