(no subject)

tree roots and rock slabs
water, dancing into ice
I follow fox paths

or in more mundane terms

I went over to my library about 9:15 this morning. Checked in all the books from the book drop. Walked down to the river. Walked along the river (down where you aren't really supposed to walk; and no one but me and a fox had walked there since yesterday, at least) up to Fontanero, walked home along Wood (street full of painted ladies). I was listening to the first part of the Silmarillion on my CD player most of the way, too, except for the exceptionally beautiful or tricky bits.

I should start more days with a 4 mile walk. Especially the kind where one stops for a snack, and sits on a sunwarmed rock out in the middle of a river to eat it.

I do miss my extended family

The last time I was home I never saw one of my uncles, my godfather, because there were so many things to do and I knew he wouldn't be fashed that I spent my day scrabbling in springy dales and looking at eagles' nests instead of coming to visit him ... and I just spent some time listening (and relistening) to a copy of a folksong tape he made my grandfather, and now I have a missing on me for him, specifically, and for my aunt his wife and for their house and their family and their kindness and their aesthetic.

So I took the time to copy out one of the songs on the tape. Which I thought someone told me he wrote but then again Google suggests it might be Bob Teesdale's; call it unattributed for now I guess ... anyway, it's awfully like him and it made good company while baking.

( Dancin' with Strangers )