Farther than before

I walked farther today than the previous days: three miles. I crossed Napa River on an elevated  bridge and connected to the river trail, to the downtown then returned home on another street.

It was 65 degrees, sunny with a cool breeze. I met along the way other walkers and cyclists.  We all practiced the safe distancing. There colorful flowers and plants and art.

I stopped a lot to take photos.

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Today, Saturday, I walked in the afternoon. It was cool 63 degrees. I brought my camera to take photos of the birds I see during my walk to the river. I know the blue heron and the red wing blackbird but I don’t know the other birds.

Books I am reading:

The Seven Storey Mountain by Thomas merton

Mastering the Art of French Eating by Ann Mah

A Beautiful Question by Frank Wilczek

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At The River

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8E5397D0-B672-47FF-B507-0F5BFDB8A7D5At The River

The lines are cast

The fish are not biting

A fisherman wonders why

I don’t know

From a distance in the walking path

Two walkers are approaching

Ask them the question when they arrive.

The base of a tree is surrounded by stones

The other trees are not.

It’s winter even in a tiny vineyard

Meantime I’m walking back home

I’m thinking what I will have for lunch

Will xfinity know?

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The Path

“We just arrived,” say the fishermen

“It’s a Siberian huskie,” he says.

“They become cold easily,” she says

Both dogs are wearing colorful sweaters.

Day’s radiance lifts my feet

I meet them in my walk 

The same path every morning whenever I can

As if I’m trying remember each column of trees,

Their abundant leaves and shades.

 

I often think of Camino de Compostela.

I hold with interest Appalachian Trail.

I hear the sounds of hot air balloons overhead

I better get going

Thoughts can escape

I can’t separate appearances and their contents

The dogs, fishermen, river and its tides

One doesn’t have to wonder where poems come from. 

 

The walk brings life to life.

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