I went on the most marvelous of runs yesterday. Cold, crisp air amongst stunning blue skies and snow-capped mountains. Not to mention the abundance of eagles, blue heron, and senior citizens armed with binoculars milling about.
After numerous closer than usual encounters with the wildlife, I begin a play-by-play of what has happened thus far on my 40-minute run. In an attempt to remember them all, I spend the next 15 minutes devising, then repeating this sentence:
Blessing the peeing North Korean that splattered the mohawked Road Runner screeching a love song.
Yes, this is how my brain flows. Scary right?
I’m assuming (hoping) everybody’s brain works in a similar fashion. Please?
Let me give you a play-by-play of what it all means.
Blessing- Oh, I’d say there was a good 5 minute span where I contemplated the word ‘blessed’. The beauty surrounding me, enveloping me, had me feeling blessed. Which made me wonder at the religious connotations associated with being ‘blessed’ which made me attempt to find another word to describe what I was feeling but lucky, fortunate and happy all did not fit the bill. Blessed it is. But then I wonder, if I say I am blessed, do people assume I am religious? Maybe spiritual? Does a person who is neither religious or spiritual ever feel blessed?
This is about the time my train of though is rudely interrupted but I’ll get to that later.
Peeing North Korean– So I’m running along when I look up on a bank and see a Blue Heron standing still, staring straight into a tree. My first thought is that it is odd to see a Heron not at the water. My second thought is of the Demilitarized Zone of North Korea. There, one of my first thoughts was curiosity at the North Korean soldier peeing against the building. Until I walked some more and noticed many of them standing in the same way, facing the buildings, legs spread slightly. Surely I was not witness to an on-command North Korean peeing ritual. Can it? No. It was simply their military stance of intimidation. So yah, the Blue Heron staring at a tree not moving was so that North Korean soldier.
Splattered- An eagle was totally trying to poop bomb my head. Fortunately I was actually in motion at that point and not stopped gasping for breath, clutching a cramp or downing some water and the white splatter landed just behind me.
Mohawk- Oh my god, so there was this eagle on a stump. SUPER close, low to the ground and HUGE. Eagles are not often almost eye-level to you so though you know they are big, when they are only 20-30 feet away, sitting there staring you down, they are down-right intimidating. I stopped, stared back and tried to just soak in that moment of appreciation of their beauty and grandness. Which is when a fierce wind blew, ruffling the big guys feathers, and totally giving him a stylin mohawk. “Rock On Eagle-Tron!” I laugh and carry on my way. Damn, I so should have fit Eagle-Tron into my sentence.
Road Runner- Again, running along when Riley darts to my right into the creek. She aims directly for another Blue Heron, which vaults its wings far and wide and flies directly over my head. This is the blessed train of thought being disrupted. The surprise and enormity of a heron overhead results in me jumping, squealing and scrambling in surprise. Which looked downright ridiculous I realized and madly whip my head around looking for witnesses. Nobody. I continue running trying to imagine just how ridiculous I must have looked. I decide it was similar to the Road Runner winding up for his race- up in the air and legs circling madly. Except I’m more spastic and slow. More Wile E Coyote’s screaming fall then Road Runner’s ‘Beep Beep’ I’m afraid.
Screeching– oh the eagles were a singin’. Two imparticular were up high in two trees, facing each other and squawking, though it sounded more like a mulit-car pile-up on icy roads than a morning chat over fish guts. Truly I have no clue as to whether they were pissed off with each other, ascertaining dominance or gossiping but since
a love song– came on my iPhone just then, I chose to believe they were in the midst of foreplay. Oh, and the love song wasn’t really a love song but on that day, amongst the stunning nature around, “So Much Beauty in the World” by Macy Gray was most certainly a love song.
And that was my seemingly nonsensical sentence making sense.
Seriously, you do this too right?