Running Her Mouth: A Snowy Walk in New Hampshire

Blog Mission, In Simple Terms

"I'm a road-runner, baby." Jr. Walker

I'm a road-runner running and writing a blog consisting of run~on sentences about running while sharing a deep concentration with the music in my ears, so that one day my boys, Elijah and Levi, will be able to read up and keep it real; Run~ons just may be the most effective way to convey my health seeking mission to people who don't know me or do, but then I pretty much like the idea that language/structure can be as playful as the subject itself, plus the reader may decide that running~on in a run~on sentence kind~of~way, might be beneficial to him or her that is right now, as of this moment here, basically undiscovered or unawakened.

The blog used to be heavily augmented by my facebook page which featured SOTD (song of the day), however I don't have the time to do that anymore; the blog has also taken on a very flexible schedule of it's own where I closely examine pretty much anything I want, in my own special way, something that piqued my interest during the previous month; if it piques yours, well, that would be pretty cool, too.
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Tuesday, January 19, 2010

A Snowy Walk in New Hampshire

Today was basically the quintessential winter day in New Hampshire. It snowed lightly all day, laying down about 4 or 5 inches of snow that is sticky for snowpersons. It was beautiful outside, everything looking clean and fresh. The temperature was hovering around 27 or 28, so, it was warm.
Levi, who is my 3 year old son, likes to ride on the sled to the bus stop to get his older brother, so off we went.
I saw a tree.
A pretty and small tree that was skinny on the bottom and twiggy on the top. The snow was stuck to it and it looked beautiful. (see fig. 4.3)
"Levi, look at the tree," I said, pointing to the tree, "It's pretty, isn't it?"
"No." he said.
"What?" I asked.
"No." he said.
"What?" I asked.
"No." he said.
"What?" I asked.
"No." he said.
"What?" I asked.
"No." he said, "It's not pretty."
"Pfffft. Okay." I said, as I started off toward the bus stop again, pulling the sled behind me.
I turned to give him a wink and a smile, and you know what? He was looking back at that pretty and small tree that was skinny on the bottom and twiggy on the top!
Although a child can't really acknowledge that his scope of the world emerges largely from his parent, the fact that levi gave the tree that second look reassures me that he is listening and exploring and (not just) pushing against me. I'm okay with all of those things because I love him (and, he does enjoy what snow can do to a small tree).