Morning Walk Report: The dogs, exhausted by the morning’s Toast Incident, were fairly well-behaved. Unseasonably warm, but very few bees, until...
…the morning run. So many bees. So many.
I believe they were hitching rides, since I was creating a nice breeze in the direction they were going. Efficiency!
I just wish they wouldn’t try to crawl into my mouth.
Also, I figured out the pipe-tobacco-smelling trees are maples, not chestnuts.
This morning’s movement jam: Prince’s “7”, a perennial favorite and with a good rhythm for the very last kilometer of a run one has to gut out.
It was a difficult run, probably because I’m still shaking off whatever had me on bed rest last week. (Was it last week? Time has lost all meaning.)
And now for the rest of the day.
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