This is the second Friday that I’ve gotten up early and gone for a walk on the Monon (a trail here in Indy). I don’t know why I didn’t start doing this earlier in the summer, because it is really good for my head. I feel better and it gives me a chance to get out and commune with nature. I like morning the best out of all the times in the day. There is always a strong sense of renewal.
“And I believe that poetry is an action, ephemeral or solemn. in which there enter as equal partners solitude and solidarity, emotion and action, the nearness to oneself, the nearness to mankind and to the secret manifestations of nature.”
I heard this story on NPR this morning on the way home from my walk and I almost started weeping in my car. I’ll be the first to admit that I’m a bit of an emotional basket case, but there is something about hearing a grown man on the verge of tears:
Mendoza, 65, looks like a man who’s spent his life on a ranch. He drives a mud-spattered pickup; he wears thick rubber boots and filthy jeans. But he doesn’t look like a guy who will cry when he talks about selling off his herd.