I've started the good habit of getting outside and going for a jog every other morning, and boy can I tell you what a world of difference it makes for the rest of my day. In using more energy early in the day, for some reason I feel like I have more of it later in the evening. I love it.
Since I took my last final and the Red Cross sucked out a pint of my blood yesterday, I just went for a walk this morning. And every morning I realize how much I love where I live, especially because every street is drenched with the signs of summer. Crossing a bridge on Indianola I noticed the steps that go down into Glen Echo park and, heck I don't have anything to do today, so on a whim I went down, away from the traffic and the early humidity.
Wow. The things God makes for us. Dark green light was everywhere as the sun filtered through the leaves onto the gravel path and I was overwhelmed with that summer morning scent - you know, that sweet smell of evaporating dew and cool bark? Immediately I felt cooler and more alert as I continued walking, watching sunbeams skid off the surface of the creek and into rocks and pale green grass. I took a detour up the hill and followed a path I know leads to the railroad tracks and just stared down that far off line until it disappeared into the sky. I spread my hands as I jogged back down the hill, relishing the cool waxy touch of the trillions of leaves around me.
I passed a mother on the way back with her 4 small children, one trundled up in a backpack and happily chewing his safety strap. The other 3, all under the age of five, took the greatest delight in throwing pebbles into the river. I stopped to watch and visit, their small chubby hands trying to find the biggest rocks they could handle and then creeping up to the water's edge to throw them in. The little boy loved to throw a lot of smaller rocks all at once - he seemed to like that he got more splash for the price of one toss.
After I had left the park and was only a few blocks from home, I took my favorite way. There's this one strip of houses on an incline who have turned their front lawns into horticultural competitions and I love to watch the life and color change day by day. One house had something bright and purple creeping up one of the posts on their front porch, and I could've sworn the house was built of a living thing. The blossoms hung wide and heavy over the steps, as if waiting to kiss someone's face.
I'm not in Suburbia. I'm not in the best of neighborhoods. Sometimes I have creepy neighbors. But you'd be surprised how often I meet wonderful neighbors, how often I see beauty in a neighborhood with a reputation like mine.
By the way...I'm moving. Again. This will make the third time this year, but this one looks like it should be longer. We've picked out the house, and on July 1st I'm moving with my current roommates, picking up three others, and we're going to live on a street only six or seven block east of where I am now. And my new street? Dead ends right into the park I went walking in this morning.
Since I took my last final and the Red Cross sucked out a pint of my blood yesterday, I just went for a walk this morning. And every morning I realize how much I love where I live, especially because every street is drenched with the signs of summer. Crossing a bridge on Indianola I noticed the steps that go down into Glen Echo park and, heck I don't have anything to do today, so on a whim I went down, away from the traffic and the early humidity.
Wow. The things God makes for us. Dark green light was everywhere as the sun filtered through the leaves onto the gravel path and I was overwhelmed with that summer morning scent - you know, that sweet smell of evaporating dew and cool bark? Immediately I felt cooler and more alert as I continued walking, watching sunbeams skid off the surface of the creek and into rocks and pale green grass. I took a detour up the hill and followed a path I know leads to the railroad tracks and just stared down that far off line until it disappeared into the sky. I spread my hands as I jogged back down the hill, relishing the cool waxy touch of the trillions of leaves around me.
I passed a mother on the way back with her 4 small children, one trundled up in a backpack and happily chewing his safety strap. The other 3, all under the age of five, took the greatest delight in throwing pebbles into the river. I stopped to watch and visit, their small chubby hands trying to find the biggest rocks they could handle and then creeping up to the water's edge to throw them in. The little boy loved to throw a lot of smaller rocks all at once - he seemed to like that he got more splash for the price of one toss.
After I had left the park and was only a few blocks from home, I took my favorite way. There's this one strip of houses on an incline who have turned their front lawns into horticultural competitions and I love to watch the life and color change day by day. One house had something bright and purple creeping up one of the posts on their front porch, and I could've sworn the house was built of a living thing. The blossoms hung wide and heavy over the steps, as if waiting to kiss someone's face.
I'm not in Suburbia. I'm not in the best of neighborhoods. Sometimes I have creepy neighbors. But you'd be surprised how often I meet wonderful neighbors, how often I see beauty in a neighborhood with a reputation like mine.
By the way...I'm moving. Again. This will make the third time this year, but this one looks like it should be longer. We've picked out the house, and on July 1st I'm moving with my current roommates, picking up three others, and we're going to live on a street only six or seven block east of where I am now. And my new street? Dead ends right into the park I went walking in this morning.
Comments
I always enjoy reading your blog. Your use of words and descriptions make me feel as though i'm there. All of your words always seem to flow together like silk. Looking forward to the next post!