Tuesday’s 5.79-mile lumber was OK, but nothing to write about1. There was little to no visible critter activity, and I had to rely on some nature nubbin macro shots to scratch my itch.
In fact, it was so lacking that I chose to bail early and missed my 6-mile target by a nugget hair. Oh well.
It’s no secret that my love (er, acceptance) of routine, no matter how good or bad it is for me, is borderline autistic. So, when I get out of a near-daily routine like writing about my mundane day hikes and attempts at nature photography, it can be hard to get back in.
However, as you can see, I’m back. For this, you have my apologies. But, so as not to get too up in your grill with a new post, I will just post some pics and say the lumbering and picture-takin’ was subpar last week, but this week has started off swell with a 6-mile lumber in some “not too bad” temps.
When I let Lola (the dog) out into the early morning darkness to do her business on Wednesday, I was greeted by brisk temps and the sound of more rain falling.
After a lumberless weekend spent watching too much football, which included seeing Spurs finally win a league match this calendar year, but remain in the drop zone, I was back in the woods on Monday morning for a lumber.
The lumber was OK, but aside from a trailside Tufted Titmouse being titty, there wasn’t much action. The lack of critter activity might have had something to do with the high winds that were gusting like a freight train all day. I’m pretty sure if I were a bird, I would not be flying in conditions like that!
As “weeks” of lumbering go, this one was pretty good, coming in at 30.60 miles in 5 days, and sitting at just under 95 miles over 16 hikes the month so far.
Good stuff, but of course, it’s just a weak stream of piss in an ocean of aging adipose tissue and worldly apathy. Still, it beats not doing it. I mean, who would take photos of the forest critters if I didn’t??? Don’t answer that.
The week of lumbering has started off pretty OK.
Monday’s lumber was a slap in the face with a very un-spring-like 27˚ at hike-time. I was less than thrilled to be wearing a winter jacket, gloves, and a bobble hat in freaking late April, but it happens every year, and will surely happen again in the coming weeks.
The week of lumbering was good, I guess. I mean, I was in the woods each day getting some miles in, so that’s always good, but until today, it was like living one rainy 96-hour-long day.
Tuesday’s lumber was delayed by about 35 minutes while I waited for a band of thunderstorms to move out of the area.
Once I did make it to the trails, it was pretty much a carbon copy of Monday’s hike, but with more water on the trails, and some slightly different critters, including a brown thrasher (seen above), which treated me to the sweetest song of any bird I’ve heard in a while.
The weekend was a blur of rain, boredom, self-loathing, existential ennui, beer, and watching Spurs plummet further into the relegation zone, causing just a little bit more of me to die inside.
Fuck, there’s not much left! I figure, seeing the team I’ve supported for 20 years or more be relegated to the Championship should just about suck the last remaining drops of joy from my dark, flaccid soul.
I digress.
After a few days of stewing in my own fecal-scented depressive juices, I finally started to climb out of The Bell Jar sometime on Thursday.
While I know what put me in the mood, I don’t know exactly what got me out of the mood. I had an appointment with the OG Mindbender on Wednesday, and that helped a good deal, but sometimes I think I just need to let a mood take its course until I find the will to push that shit down real deep and forget about it. Like the saying goes, “Time heals all wounds, but it also kills everyone and everything.” Or something like that.