dec 2/WALK

45 minutes
neighborhood + gorge with Delia the Dog
33 degrees

This year, I’ve only been posting here after a run, but I wanted to rest from running but not from writing, so I decided to break my rule and write about my wonderful walk with Delia the Dog. What a gorgeous late fall morning! What wonderful light! And the birds! I heard a few “chick-a-dee-dee-dees” and plenty of caws, at least two drum rolls from pecking woodpeckers. I stood still and stared high up into the trees, but I couldn’t see either of the woodpeckers. How small were they? The view to the other side was calming and pretty–not breathtaking but breath giving. Everywhere was filled with sounds–rustling leaves, clanging collars, chirping birds, whooshing car wheels–yet it was quiet and empty. I let Delia sniff as much as she wanted down in the leaf-covered grass beside the river road and below Edmund. At some point during the walk, moving slowly and breathing in deeply, I felt a slight comforting buzz through my entire body. Such a great feeling.

Here’s a great poem I discovered this morning on twitter:

In drear nighted December/ John Keats – 1795-1821

In drear nighted December,
Too happy, happy tree,
Thy branches ne’er remember
Their green felicity—
The north cannot undo them
With a sleety whistle through them
Nor frozen thawings glue them
From budding at the prime.

In drear-nighted December,
Too happy, happy brook,
Thy bubblings ne’er remember
Apollo’s summer look;
But with a sweet forgetting,
They stay their crystal fretting,
Never, never petting
About the frozen time.

Ah! would ’twere so with many
A gentle girl and boy—
But were there ever any
Writh’d not of passed joy?
The feel of not to feel it,
When there is none to heal it
Nor numbed sense to steel it,
Was never said in rhyme.