Trying to jot down the last three months of morning walk/runs in a journal, it occurred that I had already accounted for a season’s worth of my early hours on Twitter. Here it is in journal form, although I know many of you followed along….
Some walks are better than others. The view from the walk 10 minutes up the road:
Past the cemetery. After the smoke bush. Beyond the point where you turn down your iPod & listen for rattlers. At the palo verde. Meet you there.
AM jog in the clouds, story ideas thrumming, music swelling, kite ascends from beneath a bluff, halting to hover above me, perfection.
Jogged home with a fist full of wild white sage, leaves turned silver-side w/ dew, thinking all good things in California smell like this.
Walking this AM, the dog and I paused to put the moon to bed…
Wish wildflower season lasted all year… #californiachaparral
Tempting, but picking Jimson weed on the morning run is probably ill-advised…
That moment when you look up and thank the dog for nudging you out of bed and dragging you up the hill.
Last kiss of spring rain drawn in by the chaparral and exhaled smelling of iron, citrus, licorice and gratitude. #morningrun
Oh, tempestuous, achingly changeable May. You and September are my favorite months. #MonthsofFey
A silent rattlesnake beneath a gumtree thrumming with bees. Today feels dangerous. Be careful out there, lovelies!
Just a girl and her dog.
How exactly is it that they know I’ll probably feed them? #waitingoutsidemywindow
Bear foot and likely looking for a way into to the honey.
One of those mornings when the universe says, “Quit chasing hawks. Now, follow the ravens into the wilderness…”
The bee yard that is the halfway mark on my jog was empty of hives, making me wonder if I wasted my Spring. #seasonschange
Cabbage moths and Jimson weed, flaring white. Faded memories, crystallizing under the strengthening nearly-summer sun.
The foreign lines of a native bee discovered at the center of an evening primrose make me feel that I belong here.
And so on to Summer. May it be as beautiful and treacherous and full of possibilities as the Spring.