I woke up to snow today, a slushy, wet snow that made walking the dog wet and gushy. This is what I will soon have to buy. I swore I wouldn't, but it's come to that:
Yeah, ugly, functional and oh-so sexy.
But the snow is lovely, especially against the water. The air is wet and everything feels so clean, even though everything is actually damp as hell.
This is what the harbor looked like this afternoon:
Sometimes I can't believe I'm really living in a little fishing town at the end of the road system. But I am. What I love most is the light. By late afternoon the water turns a silver-lavender shade that is haunting and mystical. I can't get enough of it. It makes me want to write.
Ran 6.5 miles on the dreadmill at the AVTEC gym tonight. The treadmill faces a wall of mirror so that I am forced to watch myself running. My form looked great. But how tedious to run and run and go nowhere! I was thinking that if someone from the 18th century, say Jane Austen or Keats' Fannie, suddenly appeared in the gym, they would assume I was being tortured. Why else would someone subject themselves to running on a machine that forced them to stay in place? They would think I was sweating from fear. They wouldn't understand.
Well, I don't understand, either. Why do I love running so much? And really, I don't know. I just do.