There was a fluky little 60's song by the Small Faces called Itchycoo Park, with the refrain, "It's all too beautiful..."Sometimes that sticks in my mind as I move through these landscapes, helpless to stay home in the morning. How can I stay inside when the chicory is showing the knapweed, with flowers the color of faded underwear, what blue means?
When the sun finally peeks out and slams silently across this hayfield, turning it into a Landseer painting? It's all too beautiful. I want to paint it. But I settle for grabbing it in click after click, taking it home in my pocket, and sharing it with you.
Today we'll do a six mile run, beyond the church, then back to it.
I've been upping my mileage because it feels good. I try to run at least 4.5 miles each morning. Then sometimes more. Nothing hurts. I've shrunken. It works. It keeps me on the earth. It looks good on Chet, too. That's a 9 1/2 year-old dog there, with a shiny tuxedo and a waistline, trotting smartly. Dogs last longer if you get out with them every day.
As I go, I often pick up litter. It ticks me off that people litter, but I do like to read the labels on what the litterbugs are eating and imbibing. Without exception, they throw bottles, cans and wrappers of things I would never consider putting in my mouth. I like a good IPA, but Bud, Busch and Miller Lite? Life's too short. Ding Dongs, Little Debbies, Slim Jims, Dr. Pepper. The wrappers that get thrown in our hayfields and ditches do not come from health food. And as a latent anthropologist, the litter I find tells me a lot about the segment of humanity that's tossing it.
I found this one interesting. I've always wondered what makes up Five Hour Energy. Let's see...You could run every morning, and feel great throughout, and be full of good thoughts and energy and have 30 beautiful pictures in your pocket when you get back, or you could just tip this neat little bottle into your cakehole. 8,333% of your MDR of Vitamin B12, 2000% of the MDR of B6. That sounds like a good idea. I tried taking normal B vitamins when I was in my 20's because some doctor said it was a good idea, and I broke out in zits and was jittery as a flying squirrel. Not a big believer in vitamin supplements. I think you just pee your money out. I believe in food.
Oh, and in addition to your just sublethal B vitamin overdose, it's got caffeine comparable to 12 ounces of the leading premium coffee. We don't have to tell you how much that is. Is that like 12 oz. of Starbuck's darkest roast? A couple hundred mg of caffeine? Dunno, but go warned: it just might cause nervousness and occasional rapid heartbeat. Oh, and there's the Niacin Flush to watch for. I'll pass. If I drank this stuff I'd be up until sometime in 2015. You don't put caffeine on crazy.
I open the top and take a furtive sniff. It smells like a wildberry urinal cake.
W. T. F.?? People drink this stuff?
Yes, let's drink this. And then toss the bottle in the ditch when we're done. Ready for our day, and we've added our little touch to the landscape while we're at it.
I gather the trash and hide it at little waystations, then pick it up later when I pass by in my car.
I like this landscape as it is, unenhanced. I see paintings everywhere I go, in fleeting atmospheric changes, the skeins and veils of mist, the mackerel sky and the old asphalt shingles. In the simplicity of a shed, built innocent of flair or grace, but settling into a grace all its own as it ages.
In the pitted patina of its beautiful latch, edges shining with age.
There is so much to see.
Suicide note of a dusky slug, Arion subfuscus, the last loops of his slow cursive reflecting the morning sun. He will write no more on this good asphalt.