January 10, 2010, journal entry, Wishing Well Vase

Three to three point five-ish miles. Maybe four-ish?

I always like to go on an easy jaunt to stretch out my leg muscles the day following a long run. And my calf muscles ARE tight and stiff from yesterday’s 14 miles, but outside is icy, so, holding back a sigh, I strap my Yaktrax to my broken-down Brooks running shoes once again. Although I didn’t use them in yesterday’s misty crystalline snow that stung my cheeks and chin, when I turned to run into the wind, my eggplant-purple Adidas jacket’s fabric froze crispy with ice, crackling like a crunchy Autumn leaf, and when I went to wipe the fog of my breath from my black glasses, icy crystals stubbornly adhered to the lenses.

Cold and raw the north wind doth blow
Bleak in the morning early,
All the hills are covered with snow,
And winters now come fairly.

24 hours later, I am delighted to see that the tracks of my footprints have remained on the thin sheet of filigreed snow, reminding me of a tightly weaved spider’s web, the diamond-back impressions of my tractioned shoes now alongside them.










I feel playful.

Hark, hark! The dogs do bark!
Beggars are coming to town:
Some in jags, and some in rags
And some in velvet gown.

(And with glitter, too.)

A black crow perched on the labyrinthine trails of a pine tree’s branches chants, keeping time with my steps and in rhythm with the pulse of my breath. Caw caw, caw caw. Caw caw, caw caw. Flaunting her presence, she lifts and lights, her wingbeats moving like the migrating skein of geese above that loosens and tightens, arrows shifting positions.

Squirrels bound out of pockets of warmth in the low Winter sun, pause abruptly, throwing their heads up in a stiff entreating stance, ears twitching, tails whisking in a whorl of brown fur before they scamper away with their treasure trove of chocolate-brown chestnuts and acorns.

I see something shiny myself, a copper penny embedded in snow. I follow suit and carry it away in my own pocket.

Penny, penny, easily spent—
Copper brown and worth one cent.

~

This year, my right-brained runs shall be a treasure hunt.

~

I add my copper penny to my collected talismans of coins, acorns, eggshells of blue- and brown-speckled-white-tivity, rocks, and question-mark-shaped branches in my own treasure-filled reliquary.








Actually, on second thought, I think I shall drop it in my wishing well vase of copper pennies and silver coins. After all, lately, I have been seeing magpies aplenty.



Wishing Well Vase on Glass through BlackBerry Viewfinder

GL, 1/10/2010. Prevail.