Tuesday, September 14, 2010

the feather thunders

These many nights I have awakened over and again from the dream with the same theme since coming back home. The adventure, traveling with a team, heading to a goal. I get up to reset and always return to different scenery. A mountain pass, a crowded market, a steep tunnel or floating down a river. Never am I alone, ever surrounded by groups working to the same end. I keep thinking tomorrow it will change, that if I wake up and then go back to sleep, but no . This dream will not die.
Now as I sit on the porch and listen to the far off train in the dark I recall this is the same dream I have had for years.
I worked with a man years ago who said "Come into it Boy!" Living the dream doesn't sound so bad.

Wednesday, September 8, 2010

The best time of day

Walking and getting the juices flowing.

Monday, September 6, 2010


It is cool, in the seventies, this is the place where I spend much of my time at home. My reflecting pool without waterfall or brook. The hum of the city surrounds me, the comfortable familiar silence of the distant rub of tires under the drone of motor vehicles, the insect screech of the electric weed whacker in the hands of a neighbor three houses down and across the street, the crack of the nuts falling off the oak next door onto our roofs and the tiny front yard. Not anything like the wide open beauty of the north lands where there are fewer people living in square miles than live on my block of perhaps three hundred by two hundred feet. People walk by with their dogs, doors open and close up and down the street as cars pass thirty feet from my open porch's sanctuary. The many birds, crickets, squirrels and chipmunks break through the silence. It's good to have a place to be alone.

Sunday, September 5, 2010

Tally ho

I added up the miles I logged in my notebook from the first day to the last. One thousand twenty three. I didn't even break a sweat tallying it up!

Saturday, September 4, 2010

You don't say...

When sitting among the firefighters of Staten Island Rescue#5, drinking coffee, sitting around the circle of old chairs obviously brought from the men's homes I was discussing the options to get into New York City. When I walked in the station I showed the man in the office a picture from a newspaper with the dog, the World and myself walking along a roadway in New Jersey. It was shift change by the time I had settled down in one of the well worn chairs with the men, told them I was walking for diabetes awareness with Nice(the dog) and the World they were all supportive, they suggested I drive the van over to the city and go from there. I had the notion I could just take the ferry over without driving and having to deal with parking a vehicle in New York City. I didn't realize the firefighters who surrounded me were unaware I had a giant World ball, they had not seen the newspaper clipping; they thought it was my dog and I. It was then I found out you DO NOT say the words "blow up the world" anywhere close to New York City, especially while sitting in a firehouse amongst the first responders from 9-11. I couldn't get the clipping out fast enough, that was a very tense moment.
I now say "inflate".

Friday, September 3, 2010


I almost went the whole day without saying a word to anyone then I took Nice (the dog) for a late night walk. He of coarse had to find people to lean on and my day of silence was over.

Wednesday, September 1, 2010

Getting back

We have been back two days now, I took my sweet time returning from our months long stroll in the northeast. This morning I turned on the switch, as it were, healing time is almost over and it is time to get to a balanced routine of walking - my activity of choice- and work. I put the leash on Nice (the dog) and began up Bardstown Road, past the entrance to Cave Hill Cemetery and made a circle around by way of the pedestrian path along the expressway back to Cherokee Park where we now sit along an Olmstead designed path in the shade by the creek. When I was ten years old and some friends, my brother and I were floating with inner tubes after a heavy flooding rain I almost drowned just yards from here passing under the walking bridge from the field where I spent many an afternoon during my youth. Louisville has a beautiful parks system that was one of the few Olmstead designed and was almost completely implemented. As I walked I remembered the days and weeks of looking ahead as we walked to see miles of road rising and turning before me, sometimes disappearing to a point of light in the distance- a green point of light. The ball of one foot now aches as the deep blister which cushioned my steps during these months heals. The other has finally had it's two eeks to allow the Achilles to rest. Constant repetitive motion helped for four months but a couples weeks of only walking the dog has it's merit also. I have seen more colorful moths and butterflies since my return, more in two days than any given week in the north, whether it be from habitat loss or that the whole of the North lands have few insects- I am glad to see them again. As I pondered these things a feather revealed itself; a bobble for my hats' plume and received a call from a customer who has been waiting for my return. Time to get back...

All set!

From Connecticut northward a term is used that in the mid and southern regions they do not. It has many uses; replaces "ready". I have spent a day going through mail, going to the bank, dusting off the cob webs at the house, walking the neighborhood so Nice( the dog) can happily mark his territory again. Now I am ready to get back to work. I am *******all set*******