As with most of my semi epic adventures, I went pretty far considering I didn’t bring enough food or water. Continue reading “Good Mornings, Battleship, Mules”
Light grey drizzle clouds above me, I swim backstroke. It’s half past 6 in the evening, the air temperature 5.6 Cº. There isn’t a worry on my mind. Not about money, not about food, not about my body. The stuck places in the shoulders get unstuck, the phalanges float freely, the water carries my weight. The water is lukewarm: just fine for swimming.
I could do this every day. In fact I might. Continue reading “New and Familiar”
I spotted a picnic table in a Reykjavik park. Framed by low trees, it stood, sturdy and sunlit, off a lakefront pedestrian path. It would be so nice for a late spring picnic, I thought. With thermos tea and portable sandwiches. With someone special, romantically special or just life special.
The readers with whom I spoke recently in person know that I am planning to take a break from work soon. Haven’t told the work yet. This is the first time I am (gingerly) putting this in (somewhat) public writing.