Another beautiful morning by the gorge! Sunny, calm, not too warm, clear, low humidity. I felt mostly good, although my IT band — the left one — was sore off and on.
10 Things I Noticed
- a cardinal on the path, near the edge. The light and my bad color vision made the red glow in strange ways. It almost looked purple. I wondered if it might be a scarlet tanager, which is found in the gorge, but they have deep black wings, and the one I saw did not
- an off, so sweet it was sour smell near the ravine — the sewer
- a blue river with some white foam
- black capped chickadees singing their fee bee song
- no tarp under the lake street bridge on the minneapolis side, but some sort of tarp hanging off a piling on the st. paul side
- a empty bench on the east side, its back to the river, facing the road
- another empty bench on the east side facing the river with a clear view to the other side
- shshshshsh of my feet stepping down on the winter grit that’s settled at the edges of the path on the franklin bridge
- closed: Meeker Island Dam dog park (flooding); the road down to the east river flats (flooding); the walking path under the lake street bridge on the east side (erosion — the asphalt has caved in or fallen off into the river)
- a runner in shorts and a tank top who I first noticed as walker, walking up the lake street hill. She was talking with someone on the phone — speaker phone? or bluetooth headset? — and running slowly on the dirt trail next to the paved path
more fun with the IT band
Every so often, when my IT band starts to hurt, I like to play with the acronym IT, which stands for Iliotibial, by re-imagining what it/IT stands for. In November of 2018, I re-imagined IT Band, as a rock band, then composed a list of free band names. I’m pretty sure I played with IT again in this log, but I can’t seem to find it. Found it! In addition to re-imagining illiotibial, I also have turned it, as it is used in the common= phrase, “Let it Be,” into an acronym. I made a list of things IT stands for, then turned that into a poem.
Today, I’d like to play with another “it” that I’m encountering a lot as I think about my fall course proposal. It’s from Mary Oliver’s poem, “Invitation”:
It could mean something.
It would mean everything.
It could be what Rilke mean, when he wrote:
You must change your life.
In a poem I wrote in 2018, I speculated on what Mary Oliver might be referring to with her use of it. Today I’d like to expand that speculation beyond her poem.
I.T. could mean something.
- iced trees
- important turns
- invisible tethers
- irksome temptations
- indigo territory
- invalid treaties
- inevitable treachery
- imploding tasks
- injured teeth
- italic tymphanies
- iridescent trestles
- impending trash
- invalid tramping
- ignorant tests
- immediately trampled
- itchy traps
Not sure if anything will come out of that, but I love playing with words, and it made me forget about my IT band. I do think there’s something interesting about the invalid treaties.
Here’s a poem that I discovered today via twitter. Paul Tran’s poems are wonderful, especially when they read them (click on the pome link to check out their recording of it)!
Hypothesis / Paul Tran
Whether it’s true
that the moth mistakes the candle’s flame
for the moon or the bioluminescent
pheromones of another moth,
I can’t say.
I was the candle.
I was the flame
conceived in and by reason of
darkness, nibbling on a darkening wick.
When moth after moth after moth
swarmed me with their powdery wings,
I asked why.
I asked how.
I asked if
I could survive knowing
that not everything has a reason,
that not everything is capable
of or interested in reason.
my language of smoke.