2011-07-08 - 11:12 p.m.
all that rises and rains down
it comes on like a heat mirage, or the world as seen through a very old pane of glass. i find myself breathing through everyday activities, the way one breathes through pain. there is no pain, exactly.
* * *
yesterday, the heat flowed in heavy and slow, like summer does in charleston. one can imagine the palmetto sound and the smell up from the water.
* * *
the windows fog over as heat lightning crackles in the distance. i bought a hot plate so i can cook and process canning jars outdoors, but rain is coming and the house will cool overnight. the sliver of moon is occluded as a new little breeze intimates its way through the screen.
* * *
reading: the fixed stars.
listening to: christmas - 100 million flowers in a field.
working on: switching to new running shoes - new balance wr10's. back before i got sick, when i was serious about running, all the major manufacturers assumed everyone ran with a heavy heel strike and built shoes accordingly. perhaps from spending so much time barefoot as a child, i tend to a midfoot strike. i'm not sure if it's the lighter-weight shoe, or the fact that i am no longer fighting my shoes with my gait, or if this new medication is better than the old one, or if i am simply at that point in my training, but more and more miles are floating by, almost effortless.
in the garden: gladiolus and hydrangea, like rockets and pompons. then it will be a lull of foliage and groundcover until hurricane lilies in the fall.