Tail Feathers
The weather cooled off a little bit, I got out a lot earlier, and that made all the difference. Sun is rising later now; I got out around 6:30 or just as it was starting to get to eye level. This left me seeing silhouettes of ducks in the Darby Creek - big familiar goose silhouettes along with smaller, more svelte silhouettes that I did not recognize and left me wondering if it was duck migration time already and they were just crashing here for the night.
Ran a short figure 8 this morning, doing my usual concentration/contemplation thing. Thoughts are becoming a little more malleable in the sense that I can bat them about my head better and leave them on the trail behind me a bit easier. However, they are legion and keep coming back. Just before I got to the "boring" part I started to pick up the pace, not by my choosing but because I just seemed to go faster. The invisible hand pushing me along. Not anything cheetah-like, but definitely sub-8 minute pace.
And the best for last. I was heading out of the boring part and saw, on a mound of dirt right off of the trail, a red-tailed hawk sitting with his back to me. I got within four feet of him and slowed down to walk the rest of the way toward him when he turns around, bobs his head a little in surprise and in the same motion takes off. I have never been this close to a wild hawk before. Months ago I got about this close to a heron who saw me and half-heartedly waddled into the marsh, but this hawk didn't look sick like the heron did He just looked like he wasn't paying attention and I snuck up on him. Be careful Mr. Hawk, if I were a fox I'd be picking your feathers out of my teeth about now.
Still not taking my watch, six miles.
Ran a short figure 8 this morning, doing my usual concentration/contemplation thing. Thoughts are becoming a little more malleable in the sense that I can bat them about my head better and leave them on the trail behind me a bit easier. However, they are legion and keep coming back. Just before I got to the "boring" part I started to pick up the pace, not by my choosing but because I just seemed to go faster. The invisible hand pushing me along. Not anything cheetah-like, but definitely sub-8 minute pace.
And the best for last. I was heading out of the boring part and saw, on a mound of dirt right off of the trail, a red-tailed hawk sitting with his back to me. I got within four feet of him and slowed down to walk the rest of the way toward him when he turns around, bobs his head a little in surprise and in the same motion takes off. I have never been this close to a wild hawk before. Months ago I got about this close to a heron who saw me and half-heartedly waddled into the marsh, but this hawk didn't look sick like the heron did He just looked like he wasn't paying attention and I snuck up on him. Be careful Mr. Hawk, if I were a fox I'd be picking your feathers out of my teeth about now.
Still not taking my watch, six miles.
posted by seebo | 8:43 AM
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