To Live is to Fly
Days, up and down they come
like rain on a conga drum
forget most, remember some
but don't turn none away.
~Townes Van Zandt
A beautiful beautiful morning today, one that falls in the "remember some" category.
Headed out to Tinicum again, this time to explore further than I went yesterday. Looking again at the map I first linked to in the last post, like yesterday I started on the southwest end and ran the second loop; today I added the outer version of the third loop for a big figure eight.
Bright sun and a chill that was enough for some frost and a scim of ice on the puddles. The whole refuge seemed alive this morning. Herons and egrets fishing on the edges of the shore, ducks swimming and diving. A red tailed hawk sitting in a small tree let me come to about 20 meters before lazily flying to another perch about 50 meters away. Juncoes and sparrows formed an advance guard in the woods as they flew ahead of me a bit, only to again get rousted as I got nearer. And some squirrels (those darn things are never far away) played chicken with me, darting across the path almost right before I would have stepped on them.
The most breathtaking view of the morning came after I rounded the far turn by the northeast parking lot and ran into the sun, which silhouetted all the birds in the water going about their morning business.
Running in this context is different from walking. It takes me and Tony a good hour to walk from the NE lot to the first lookout and back, maybe 1 or 1 1/2 miles out and back. That's because we stop repeatedly to look at birds, skip stones, throw sticks, fool around and do a million other things. This morning I covered from the lot entrance to the lookout platform in about five or six minutes. Not a terribly fast speed but a very different speed. Enough to where I'm not waiting for the scene to unfold, instead I'm just moving and taking in impressions. One after the other and just getting hit repeatedly by the beauty unfolding.
It's been a good morning, magical even. One I'll definitely remember. The TVZ song I quoted up in front of this post came to mind. To Live is to Fly. A good mantra as I ease back into training for the spring.
Had a timer malfunction, so as best I can tell it was (always conservatively) 9 miles in about 75 minutes.
like rain on a conga drum
forget most, remember some
but don't turn none away.
~Townes Van Zandt
A beautiful beautiful morning today, one that falls in the "remember some" category.
Headed out to Tinicum again, this time to explore further than I went yesterday. Looking again at the map I first linked to in the last post, like yesterday I started on the southwest end and ran the second loop; today I added the outer version of the third loop for a big figure eight.
Bright sun and a chill that was enough for some frost and a scim of ice on the puddles. The whole refuge seemed alive this morning. Herons and egrets fishing on the edges of the shore, ducks swimming and diving. A red tailed hawk sitting in a small tree let me come to about 20 meters before lazily flying to another perch about 50 meters away. Juncoes and sparrows formed an advance guard in the woods as they flew ahead of me a bit, only to again get rousted as I got nearer. And some squirrels (those darn things are never far away) played chicken with me, darting across the path almost right before I would have stepped on them.
The most breathtaking view of the morning came after I rounded the far turn by the northeast parking lot and ran into the sun, which silhouetted all the birds in the water going about their morning business.
Running in this context is different from walking. It takes me and Tony a good hour to walk from the NE lot to the first lookout and back, maybe 1 or 1 1/2 miles out and back. That's because we stop repeatedly to look at birds, skip stones, throw sticks, fool around and do a million other things. This morning I covered from the lot entrance to the lookout platform in about five or six minutes. Not a terribly fast speed but a very different speed. Enough to where I'm not waiting for the scene to unfold, instead I'm just moving and taking in impressions. One after the other and just getting hit repeatedly by the beauty unfolding.
It's been a good morning, magical even. One I'll definitely remember. The TVZ song I quoted up in front of this post came to mind. To Live is to Fly. A good mantra as I ease back into training for the spring.
Had a timer malfunction, so as best I can tell it was (always conservatively) 9 miles in about 75 minutes.
posted by seebo | 9:47 AM
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