"When everything else has gone from my brain ... what will be left, I believe, is topology: the dreaming memory of land as it lay this way and that." Annie Dillard
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Monday, January 16, 2012
Hollowed Out
It was about 20 degrees this morning when I went for my walk.For an hour I took paths I hadn't taken in years, some never at all. There were hills and bridges, slight dips and a bounty of backyards to overlook and enjoy.
At the end I tried a shortcut that I thought would bring me out on the main road. It lead, instead, to a tall fence I couldn't scale. So I retraced my steps at a run to return to the parking lot where I'd left the car. I was tired by the end.
Along the way the ground crackled beneath my feet as the frozen earth resisted my steps. There was a feeling of renewal in the cold, of being hollowed out and made whole again by it.