I walked along the bike path a few days ago, my temp job at Glory Bee a few days done. Like sunlight off the river, my thoughts reflected a positive view. The time at the warehouse gave me a different project, a bit of money, and a nice change of pace. By the last day there, I’d started getting up at my usual four a.m. writing time to put in an hour or so at the computer before work. The effort squeezed me, but I’m glad I tried the pace. And I’m glad I allowed myself not to do everything every day.
This week, home again is a nice place. The path by the river feels like an extension of my rooms.
I’d never seen a black mallard before, until my walk the other day.
He joined this lady and a friend to dawdle beneath the path’s bridge. I’m sure they were ready for crumbs if I’d happened to have brought them some.
I’ve put up two new quotes on my site’s home page. I hope to share different ones more often from now on. The one from Annie Dillard sort of fits the pattern I find while working on essays. The quote by Wendell Berry is from my favorite poem right now. In it, Berry reflects on his project of being a poet, which involves crouching beside a creek in April rain, remembering stories his grandmother told him of a crazy lady. He says, “…I too am perhaps a little mad,/ standing here wet in the drizzle, listening/ to the clashing syllables of the water…”
I’m learning, I think, that the more I work to become a writer, the more I see I’m a student of writing. Sort of like the more I read (the Bible, especially, but poetry and essays, too), the more I find myself a student of the written word. And then the more I seek to live well, naturally, the more I’m reminded I am a student of life.
Nicely put!
Yes, the more I try to write, read, and live well, the more I see it calls for staying in student mode: flexible, curious, learning, and what a great mode that is!
I just re-read David Copperfield for the first time in years, and for the first time I read it carefully, not skipping along, and wow, was it rewarding, as a writer. He really writes, not just types (as Truman Capote says), but it is always in service of the story—which moved along like that river, swollen full, with lots of life in, on, and around it.
I should try and write about reading it… : )
beautiful. I love your blog. I read it just to let the words wash over me. :)
…and the pictures are mighty fine, too.
Thanks very much for connecting, Fresca and Jodi. Reading, writing, living life. Good stuff. (Oh, sometimes watching movies, too. I’ll see, later today, what I think of Star Trek. Woo.)
I know what you mean about the path you frequent being an extension of your rooms. I have paths like that as well. It’s nice, isn’t it?
And, yes, student of life et al. Perpetual student. Me, too. Nice journey on our way to Destination Righteousness.