trestle turn around
62 degrees / humidity: 71%
Another beautiful, cool morning! All in the shade with only a few dancing dots of sun. I looked for the tree that resembles a tuning fork amongst the Welcoming Oaks but couldn’t find it today. Wondered if I’d feel out of tune during this run. Nope. It was great. Maybe it’s because of the new shoes? From the beginning, I’ve worn Saucony Grid Cohesions. But the latest re-design (I think I’ve been through 10 re-designs) does not work for my wide feet, so I upgraded to the Rides. Excellent, especially since I got them for 1/2 price!
10 Things I Noticed
- a roller skier, their poles clicking once, then sliding across the asphalt, or skittering across — no, maybe scraping
- the shimmering water peeking through a gap in the leaves
- a biker listening to something on the radio — a bike race? but not the Tour; that’s over
- a newspaper, rolled up and in the bag, on the stones just under the lake street bridge. What was it doing there?
- rowers, down below
- the wind — shimmering or simmering or sizzling
- someone pushing a stroller slowly, someone else pushing a stroller quickly
- a tall man with carrying a bag of newspapers on the path, a few blocks from the lake street bridge. Did he deliver the newspaper to the bridge? Why? (see #4)
- in the tunnel of trees: a bright orange construction sign, sometimes tipped over, sometimes upright. Placed there about a month ago when they were doing road work above and needed to re-route bikers below. Did they forget about it, or are they leaving it for later, when they’ll need it again?
- a biker with their front bike light on, approaching
As I listened to the wind in the trees, I wondered about one of my favorite sounds: the creaking of branches rubbing together, sounding like a door opening. I wondered: does this only happen when the trees are bare, or less covered with leaves? Do I ever hear this creaking in the summer? I can’t remember; I’ll have to start listening more deliberately for it.
Found on twitter this morning:
I think that in the process of writing, all kinds of unexpected things happen that shift the poet away from his plan and that these accidents are really what we mean when we talk about poetry.John Ashbery
I really like this idea of the accidents. Often it feels like poetry is what happens when you’re trying to do something else. The something else = off to the side, on the side, not in the center but the periphery, not a matter of strong will but of surrender. A goal: get yourself in a space where you’re open to the accidents.
Also, this bit from a poem by Diane Seuss
What can memory be in these terrible times?Weeds/ Diane Seuss
Only instruction. Not a dwelling.
Here are some cool facts about crickets that I just discovered from the mnstateparksandtrails instagram account:
Crickets are cold-blooded — their body temp changes along with the air temp. As the temp rises, their metabolism increases and they can contract their chirp-creating muscles faster. Heatwaves? More chirps! Temp dipping? Fewer chirps.
You need to be listening to a single cricket – this doesn’t work very well if you’re hearing a whole orchestra. (Officially a group of crickets is called a “crackle.”) Count the number of chirps for 14 seconds and add 40 to get the temp in Fahrenheit. It’s surprisingly accurate.
“Better grab a sweater for the campfire, it’s only 22 crickets out tonight. Brr!”
I want to measure the temperature in cricket chirps! Ok, in theory I want to. I’m not sure I could actually count the chirps. Also in this delightful description:
a group of crickets is called a crackle!
bike: 8.5 miles
swim: 2 loops
lake nokomis open swim
73 degrees / 5:30 pm
A little windy, but still a nice night for a bike and a swim.
10 Things I Noticed
- a black plane
- a white plane
- a few menacing white sailboats, looking too close to the swimming area
- a flash of yellow ahead of me: someone’s safety buoy
- hardly any people at the beach — too cold? the green blue algae advisory?
- clear goggles, a noseplug that didn’t want to stay on (had to stop twice in the middle of the lake to adjust it)
- a little choppy on the way back from the little beach to the big beach
- spray as my arms entered the water. I noticed it as I turned to breathe
- clang clang clang a loud banging over by the menancing swan peddle boats — what were they doing?
- breathed every 5, except for when I breathed every 3 or 4