My breath steaming from below my eyes. The loud pant of my lungs as they suck air and spew it back out taking from it what they need to survive and sucking in a fresh batch.
My feet rhythmically crunching on the snow beneath me leaving a mark proving not only where I have been but also that I exist. Now.
My heart pounding faster and faster and I push aside my brain's advice to walk. I can feel this never resting muscle pushing blood to every corner of my body and back. I can feel the heat of that blood in my finger tips.
My eyes scanning up and down the dark silent winter night consuming the beauty.
But unlike the rest of my body when my eyes consume there is no evidence no trace left behind. My eyes don't exhale a vapor. They don't leave a foot print. They simply take in. But just as my eyes leave no evidence they also take none. Only the faint memory my brain can attempt to store of the very temporary moment.
My muscles tightening around my bones and I push them harder.
My skin pulled over my muscles as they flex
My pores releasing sweat to cool my already cold body
Each step being pulled back to Earth by gravity. The Earth flying around the sun 1,080 miles a minute synced to my 126 heart beats at the same time.
Walhalla runs in the winter.
The slow quiet pace of a walk. The days end slowly approaching as the Earth spins away from the sun's light.
Walhalla walks in the summer.
The sun's light.
I look up as I take my calm slow steps. Leaves everywhere, that green, my favorite color, as the light of our closest star illuminates and shines through those organic solar panels.
As I look around I notice each and every leaf, I couldn't begin to count them. I wonder what it is like for a tree to extend it's branches like hands, reaching for the sun to take in it's light creating it's meal.
Light to a leaf is sustenance.
As I walk underneath the trees it feels almost as if the sun is the high priest of the trees and their leaves are not reaching out from branches like hands, but rather extended like tongues prepared for the Eucharist.
On my walk I thought back to those winter runs, that January night when I wrote that letter to You above.
In the winter the trees cast off their tongues, unable to receive their daily bread, their manna, bread from Heaven.
They stand in waiting, dormant, restful, asleep. They know with confidence that the Earth's tilt will come back around in their favor. They know the Earth will one day lean again towards the sun so they may partake yet again in their daily bread.
Now I am sweating down the same road but it isn't from running, it's the sun slightly closer to my place on the planet. That minor tilt causing me to sweat. My skin, the skin that was once protected, hidden, and covered by layers and layers as I ran in January, now it is pleasantly exposed to enjoy the warmth and the light the sun provides. My skin cells similar to the leaves, find the rays pleasant although they cannot taste like the chlorophyll of the leaves I still find the sensation nice.
Summer
the days are so much longer
the weather is so much warmer
What is it about the sun that has such power over our moods?
I suppose that is why I can see how astrology might have some truth in it. I don't know if I'd ever confess that to Bea though.
the study of the movements and relative positions of celestial bodies interpreted as having an influence on human affairs and the natural world
Those living in less sunny places have high suicide rates.
Those living in the most sunny places are usually happiest.
That is a celestial body influencing human affairs.
The sun after all is a star. What are astrological signs but collections or groupings of stars.
I love spring for its resurrection
I love summer for its life
I love autumn for its beauty
I love winter for its rest
God, I pray that Bea finds her honesty and I pray that she finds peace in that.
Thank You for the time I've had her in my life and I ask for much much more time.
I miss her and I love her very much so, oh God.
Please once more, oh God.
Everything goes away
Yeah everything goes away
But I'm gonna be here until I'm nothing
But bones in the ground
So quiet down
Radical Face - Always Gold
My feet rhythmically crunching on the snow beneath me leaving a mark proving not only where I have been but also that I exist. Now.
My heart pounding faster and faster and I push aside my brain's advice to walk. I can feel this never resting muscle pushing blood to every corner of my body and back. I can feel the heat of that blood in my finger tips.
My eyes scanning up and down the dark silent winter night consuming the beauty.
But unlike the rest of my body when my eyes consume there is no evidence no trace left behind. My eyes don't exhale a vapor. They don't leave a foot print. They simply take in. But just as my eyes leave no evidence they also take none. Only the faint memory my brain can attempt to store of the very temporary moment.
My muscles tightening around my bones and I push them harder.
My skin pulled over my muscles as they flex
My pores releasing sweat to cool my already cold body
Each step being pulled back to Earth by gravity. The Earth flying around the sun 1,080 miles a minute synced to my 126 heart beats at the same time.
Walhalla runs in the winter.
The slow quiet pace of a walk. The days end slowly approaching as the Earth spins away from the sun's light.
Walhalla walks in the summer.
The sun's light.
I look up as I take my calm slow steps. Leaves everywhere, that green, my favorite color, as the light of our closest star illuminates and shines through those organic solar panels.
As I look around I notice each and every leaf, I couldn't begin to count them. I wonder what it is like for a tree to extend it's branches like hands, reaching for the sun to take in it's light creating it's meal.
Light to a leaf is sustenance.
As I walk underneath the trees it feels almost as if the sun is the high priest of the trees and their leaves are not reaching out from branches like hands, but rather extended like tongues prepared for the Eucharist.
On my walk I thought back to those winter runs, that January night when I wrote that letter to You above.
In the winter the trees cast off their tongues, unable to receive their daily bread, their manna, bread from Heaven.
They stand in waiting, dormant, restful, asleep. They know with confidence that the Earth's tilt will come back around in their favor. They know the Earth will one day lean again towards the sun so they may partake yet again in their daily bread.
Now I am sweating down the same road but it isn't from running, it's the sun slightly closer to my place on the planet. That minor tilt causing me to sweat. My skin, the skin that was once protected, hidden, and covered by layers and layers as I ran in January, now it is pleasantly exposed to enjoy the warmth and the light the sun provides. My skin cells similar to the leaves, find the rays pleasant although they cannot taste like the chlorophyll of the leaves I still find the sensation nice.
Summer
the days are so much longer
the weather is so much warmer
What is it about the sun that has such power over our moods?
I suppose that is why I can see how astrology might have some truth in it. I don't know if I'd ever confess that to Bea though.
the study of the movements and relative positions of celestial bodies interpreted as having an influence on human affairs and the natural world
Those living in less sunny places have high suicide rates.
Those living in the most sunny places are usually happiest.
That is a celestial body influencing human affairs.
The sun after all is a star. What are astrological signs but collections or groupings of stars.
I love spring for its resurrection
I love summer for its life
I love autumn for its beauty
I love winter for its rest
God, I pray that Bea finds her honesty and I pray that she finds peace in that.
Thank You for the time I've had her in my life and I ask for much much more time.
I miss her and I love her very much so, oh God.
Please once more, oh God.
Everything goes away
Yeah everything goes away
But I'm gonna be here until I'm nothing
But bones in the ground
So quiet down
Radical Face - Always Gold