minnehaha falls and back
28 degrees / humidity: 90% / mist
100% soft, slippery, snow-covered
Quiet, gray, dreamy. Disconnected from the world. Alone, but not lonely. Immersed in a slow, hard effort on a slippery trail. I’m ready for this soft snow to go away. I want a clear, solid path, please. My leg muscles are sore, but I don’t regret the run. How wonderful to be outside and moving beside the gorge in the winter!
No fresh, clean air. Instead, a poor air quality warning. I couldn’t feel it in my lungs, but I could see it in the sky. Everything was even fuzzier than usual.
10 Things I Noticed
- heard some harsh honks, then looked up in the sky. A vee of geese! I stopped to watch them flying low until they disappeared behind a tree
- the sky was a pleasing, soft gray
- running past a park kiosk, I heard some deep thumping. Could it be the knocking of a woodpecker?
- the falls were frozen, although as I ran by the bridge just above the falls, I noticed a dark open spot. I didn’t stop to listen for gurgling water. Would I have heard some?
- only one car and one person in the parking lot, standing near the machine where you pay for parking
- stopped to walk on the unplowed pedestrian side of the double bridge and heard nothing but a loud silence
- the path was covered in soft, slippery snow, with a few short stretches of packed snow
- the road (edmund) was slick and wet and had lots of streaks of brown, slushy, slippery snow
- kids’ voices drifting over from the school playground, mixing in with the geese honks
- felt a fine mist on my face — was it freezing rain? moisture in the air?
Found this poem on twitter the other day:
Lit/ Andrea Cohen
be a lamplighter.
be the lamp,
must, in bereaved
it is to be lit.