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Tracks in the Mud
There were imprints of multiple bike tire treads in the dried mud. This particular corner is not exactly technical, but it would inevitably pose a challenge for a novice off-road cyclist. The hairpin turn is at the lowest point of a narrow runoff trench, a kind of wrinkle in the landscape where water might escape
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Stewards of the Trails
While volunteering as a course marshal at a local trail race yesterday, I stood in the same spot in the woods for nearly three and a half hours. Much of that time was spent clapping and cheering and directing racers away from a detour where the path had naturally washed out near the river bank.
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Local Wayfinding
We often joke with the running crew that among the group a few of us seem to have GPS chips in our brains: we’re really good at find routes and getting un-lost. But for those less gifted in the skillful navigation of unmarked paths, finding one’s way through the trails and wild spaces of the
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boundary
I am not a poet, but a friend has inspired me to read more of it and think more critically about its place in the constellation of my creative pursuits. Occasionally, I’d like to post a poem here when inspiration strikes. boundarydemarcated by strict panels of hewn lumberset against remnant forest clinging to a river