Ending with eagles

“What are you watching?”
“Apollo 13.”
“Is it just starting?”
“Yes.”
“I’ll go out when it’s over.”
“You just want to see the slide rule scene.”
*****mindless drivel to test something*****

No, I said inwardly, I just want to see a bunch of people working together, all while in a stressful environment where honesty is more important than any political, cultural, or socioeconomic concerns. It is corny in today’s in-your-face world, but yeah, I suppose that part where successive thumbs-ups from the slide rule scene put the exclamation point on it. We don’t do that very often anymore.

They got back. I went out.

The blockhouse tries to hide the fog
The blockhouse tries to hid e the fog

The mystery of a chilling wind on my (first time this year) bare legs while entering the fog will never be solved with any sort of finality. It the wind is blowing, shouldn’t the fog go away? Shouldn’t it be like your breath on a cold morning and just politely disappear rather than causing some mental plea for a long-forgotten formula of heat transfer, thermodynamics, or mathematics encased in cobwebs?

Something mathematical approaches...
Something mathematical approaches…

A Northern Harrier, wings not moving enough to ruffle feathers, whispers along looking down through the grasses for dinner. I try to ignore it and concentrate on making the fog go away. The harrier dives into the grass at the same time I notice I can see all the way across to the Olympic Mountains. The trail up the bluff awaits.

Up the bluff...
Up the bluff…

Where to turn today? Recovery runs are always full of consternation. I feel good… somewhat. I can only tell the Achilles is still tender if I concentrate on listening to it. I sort of walk/shuffle up to the top–a weak compromise. My intentions to run to the almost-dead tree are compromised when I hear the two big splash sounds. Seal or sea lion? I look in the wrong direction first. By the time I find the ripples from the splash, the cause is gone. Onward to the turnaround tree.

One of several "turnaround" trees we have named
One of several “turnaround” trees we have named

Okay, evaluation time… bleah–actually, everything feels good. Okay… there are no major hills going back, just those four or five thirty- to fifty-yard long things… just slow down and it will be okay. What about the prairie? It is about three quarters of a mile and a gradual climb. Hmmm, okay, just stay above shuffle to the bench; evaluate and maybe “sprint” the last three or four minutes to the car.

Barely up and along prairie's edge to the bench
Barely up and along prairie’s edge to the bench
Where Arlo Guthrie waited?
Where Arlo Guthrie waited?

How, oh how, could twenty-seven minutes of nonstop “somewhere above shuffle” be met with such satisfaction? The reward was spotting three eagles in the tree tops near the parking lot.

Three of them...
Three of them…

I walked around for a couple of minutes… prairie, mountains, trees, eagles, water that moves… I am blessed to live in a place where I love to walk, shuffle, jog, run, or pause.

—– Run gently out there —–