The Geese

You can't have a Wash Park experience without geese.
They're there.
It's their home.
They make as much noise as they want,
when they want to,
and it's as loud as they want it to be.
They're magnificent,
but dirty.
Graceful,
but petulant.
Gorgeous,
but obnoxious.
An example of the contradictions of life.

Wash Park 12/16/09

In the park,
Every day surprises.
Today an angry sky.
A different kind of anger.
An anger with allure.
Notice!
Marvel at beauty in this anger.
Sky's anger, not like humans'.
But human language marks our bondaries.
All we know to talk about our world.
Maybe we should just look.

Another Morning in Wash Park

I can't remember ever seeing the combination of blues that appeared in the frozen lake. I tried to catch them with my camera. It worked -- sort of. You get the idea. But you don't know what it feels like to be there, in the cold air that makes those colors and patterns of ice's crinkle and sparkle.
Kisha, my dog, went today. Patiently waiting while I tried to capture the amazement. Happy to have her coat on. Happy to get some cookies along the way. She understands the simplicity of a good walk, but wants her rewards too. My rewards are the beauties of this refuge in the city.

Vacation in Washington Park, Denver
12/ 11/ 09: School’s over. It’s the first day of winter vacation. I’ve turned in the grades for my classes and I’m ready to, to what? Every time I come to the end of something, I feel aimless and lost. What now? And so, this morning in characteristic fashion, I sunk into a funk – adrift, no plan. Then I put on my running shoes and went to Wash Park. Across the lakes the mountains rose above the bare trees to greet the sun, and the plan hatched. I will spend this vacation writing about my mornings in the park. I will breathe and watch. That’s my plan, my to-do, my project. I will vacation in Wash Park and pay close enough attention to write about it.
This morning was unlike many other mornings in Wash Park. I dilly dallied at home, even getting close to a showering without going out. But I realized, as the shower-water warmed, that I had to get out, to see the mountains, to run.
By the time I got to the park, it was a little after 8. The hard core and the workers had been and gone. And it was still too early and cold for the stay-at-homes, so I had the park nearly to myself. Even my dog was at home, waiting for the afternoon thaw.
Being nearly alone changes the experience. It allows the mind to do whatever it will without being brought back to the challenges of trail etiquette. And so this morning rather than thinking about getting my dog, Kisha, on the right side of the trail for oncoming tracffic’s sake, my mind focused on the cold against my face in contrast to the heat of my hands inside my gloves. One body, so cold and so hot. I listened to the geese screech rather than thinking about how good Kisha has become at watching for her cookie rather than chasing them. But as always, I looked for the mountains, the strongest pull to the park for me. The light of the morning sun makes them dazzle magically. I go to the park for that magic, what it does for my soul.