A brisk walk this morning instead of a slow run. Farther, faster. How interesting. How odd. And then there were the robins, singing in the dark. One was on the sidewalk, absorbed in his song. As I went around him, he didn’t stop once. He seemed helpless, almost. Imagine that much music in your throat. . [ 1743 ]
A full, ripe moon over the wetland. Someday, maybe I will write like that. . [ 1737 ]
I run so early in the morning I’m seldom met or passed by a car. When I am, I’m amazed all over again at how much pollution even one vehicle generates. It happened this morning, when I was overtaken by a small late-model pickup as we moved towards the stop sign by the fig tree. As I ran through the fumes, I took shallow breaths until I was clear of […]
Spring at last — the old man was a child all along. I spent most of yesterday writing that line. It isn’t much, I know, but I also walked, ran, and talked to a retired neighbor, who’s one of the friendliest, most positive people I’ve ever met. He also walks and runs. He rides a bicycle, too, and is looking forward to sunny days ahead. On the way home, I […]
While out running yesterday morning before dawn, and then again an hour or so later while doing some bending, stretching, and breathing exercises, I thought about what I was really doing. I was, in some small degree, lessening the distance between the life I’m living and the life I would have lived as a primitive, wandering, foraging human whose activities were devoted almost entirely to survival, a life in which […]
Today is not a day for writing. Early this morning, I ran to the fig tree and back. Later, we took a long walk by the river, where, high in two leafless cottonwood trees just starting to bud, we saw big, rugged osprey nests. After lunch, I raked the mossy front sidewalk, careful not to dislodge the shepherd’s purse that has sprouted there. Then we walked through the neighborhood, talking […]
Let’s speak and act in such a way that kindness is the inevitable response. * Instead of telling a child that a certain bright light in the sky is the moon, ask her what it is. Whatever she says will be true. * When you press the Publish button, do so as if you’ve just run all the way from your village to mine and arrived breathless and eager to […]
running through the windy dark in icy rain the leafy streets the streetlights’ shine come inside dry the feet the legs the hair and find a strange sight in the mirror . [ 1608 ]
First a maple, then an oak — after the storm, the trees go on raining. . [ 1596 ]
Mist, fog, smoke — a lonely street light where the town ends and the country begins, dreaming of an affair with the moon — foolish enough — then you smile, so little you’ve changed since your youth. . [ 1577 ]
William Michaelian 