When I collected these rocks from Mt. Mansfield, I intended them to be souvenirs for myself and a few others. Maybe not the most memorable keepsake I could offer someone, in hindsight, but when I was up there, it was the perfect token of my affection to bring something from somewhere so beautiful to somewhere else and hand it to someone, to say here, here is a piece of that place and its beauty. I can supplement the recipient’s lack of knowledge about Mt. Mansfield with the photos that I took, but I suppose I think the souvenir, as a gift, lacks self-evidence. You can’t do much with a rock besides look at it and feel its edges, curves, textures. I suppose I dreamt a little too much when I thought of someone taking one of these in their hands and imagining the earth as it was changing and forming mountains. Such thoughts require a great imagination and maybe a little knowledge. I wanted to share my experience because it was engrossing. It isolated and cordoned off my mind so that nothing but essential details were permitted to enter. I wanted to share that feeling which, to me, represents something primal and elemental. I suppose too much. They’re rocks.
I ran today, on a day that’s normally a day off. I didn’t run yesterday because of the travel. 6 miles, about 9 minute pace. Felt loose and strong. I ran in my new shorts. I love my new shorts.