About 2.5 miles into my run a woman on the other side of the road called out, “Nice running weather” and I called back, “Yes, great!” It was wonderful running weather. Not too much wind or sun. Cool. Uncrowded. I felt strong and relaxed. Thought a little about my kids–a freshman and senior–who were starting school this morning. All online. Not as fun for them as in-person school, but safer and less stressful.
things I remember
- The river was a blueish gray, mostly concealed by thick green
- A flash of bright red leaves on a tree lower down on the Winchell Trail
- A few walkers discussing squirrels, taking up a lot of the parking lot above the oak savanna
- The loud crack of an acorn falling to the ground
- Muddy trails on the narrow stretch of grass between 42nd and 44th–what Scott calls “the gauntlet”
- Down near the turkey hollow the road had strips of dirt or mud or something that had fallen from the trees. I ran over it and it was soft–not like dirt, more like tree debris
- Being greeted by a runner as we passed each other–I think we were more than 6 feet apart
- Sort of racing someone running on the river road trail while I ran on Edmund. Did he notice that I was there like I noticed him?
- Lots of cars rushing by on the river road, feeling like a normal fall workday morning
- Looking for the turkeys (none spotted) and wondering how far they travel from their home in a day and whether they move their home and what their home consists of
With the kids both in school and Labor Day having passed and the air feeling so cool (46 degrees!), it is fall. So strange. What happened to August? The summer?
Found this awesome letter poem by Aracelis Girmay on twitter:
ODE TO THE LETTER B / Aracelis Girmay
B, you symmetry, you, under0bouse,
half butterfly, two teeth,
sideways: a bird meets the horizon.
To say you, B,
out loud I must
suck in my lips, almost smiling,
top lip kiss bottom lip.
then push the whole mouth out
B is like a set of lips.
In three rows, B is like tire tracks,
the heels of shoes, horse’s hooves exactly
side by side.
without you, Blouses would be louses,
& Blow would be low,
& the song would go A, then C.
Without you, what could I, would I
To end the word ‘VERB’?
To begin words like:
Girmay also has an Ode to R. Nice! I love the creativity–an inspiration to keep pushing myself.