Tag: walking

  • Estuary (writing while walking)

    Estuary (writing while walking)

    Knitted into the plot of the novel manuscript I’m working on (which I won’t summarize here) is an estuary restoration project. I’ve drawn on a couple of preserves I’ve visited in recent years to think about what the imagined place might look like, what it is trying to accomplish. Recently, I hiked through the South Slough…

  • Duct Tape Obelisk

    There’s a cemetery I sometimes walk through on my way to work, or on my way home. They’re mostly historic graves, though I think interments still take place from time to time. It’s quiet, with tall trees, a little poison oak, a caretaker’s trailer, and cigarette butts ankle deep at the entrance closest to campus,…

  • Walking the West Highland Way

    Having enjoyed and endured twenty-five years of each other’s company in marriage, we thought it was time for a treat and rewarded ourselves with a trip to Scotland and a walk on the West Highland Way with our kids. I wanted one of those luxurious hikes where you spend the night at a cozy inn…

  • Mitigation

    I rode along on my son’s middle school science field trip last week. Because I’m a great mom, of course, and I wanted to do my little bit for the schools before my work schedule ramped back up, and because you learn something about your kids and their lives if you spend some time seeing…

  • Rebuilt wetlands: noise and surprises

    The Delta Ponds are former gravel pits, strung between a freeway and a shopping mall, a band of apartments and retirement homes, a batch of car dealerships. It’s a made place, and also a natural one. Reclaimed, reconstructed. It’s an attempt to re-complicate just slightly the once braided, now restricted course of the Willamette River. …

  • Layover Butterflies

    Sometimes the butterfly matches its flower. Or the rest stop accommodates the traveler, opens just the right amount of space, offers tasty cookies with that watery free coffee, anticipates what might seem like nectar in the middle of a journey.   This is us making the most–the best–of a 7-hour layover in Chicago, enjoying the…

  • In memoriam (decedent unknown)

    Unknown to me, that’s all, or only slightly known. Familiar, but not close. I expect (I hope) she was better known to others. There’s an assisted living home down the hill from us, close to the stop where I catch the bus to work. Ours is a neighborhood of hills and uneven sidewalking–sidewalks seem to…

  • Frozen

    After it snowed and before it really started raining this morning, I went for a walk. More of a crunch-tromp-glide-stumble-crunch; the ice crust on the snow was brittle, and the snow was deep. Here where it isn’t supposed to snow–or not snow much–we are frozen on the verge of spring. The ice is clarifying, isolating,…

  • Lily Pad

    For eight years now, we’ve been taking the same hike on my birthday. Some years we’ve pushed the calendar a little, but most years, it’s been on the day itself. And it doesn’t get old–not for me, anyway. Much as I love to take new hikes, this one, I could do over and over. As…

  • Still Noticing, Collecting (Detour 13)

    We spent the third weekend in January at the coast, an extended family tradition–long walks, seafood, puzzles, wine. Walks remembered and compared; stones retrieved from tide pools, examined, mulled, returned– dropped gently, perhaps, or absentmindedly; or flung full-armed into the further surf, that pitcher’s arc none of us ever truly mastered. Remembered others’ beach traditions…