September 1, 2012
Hi folks, Nate here. I found this little journal entry from my mom. Yep, you should know the crazy field trip coordinator is my mom. Well…anyway, she left her diary out, and I read this (shh!). Please read it…hang in there. Remember I mentioned she mumbles…and rambles. It really explains a lot about her. *Sigh*
“In my life, it is hard to stay focused! Take this morning’s run for example. It was to be an easy 5-miler, home within 45 minutes. It started out at a great pace… for the first 300 yards. Then I saw the sun hitting the oak leaves. “Oh man! That would be a great shot,” I mumbled to myself. Just keep running. “Whaaaat?! Those grapes are lovely!” I exclaimed. I wondered if I should turn around and grab my camera…but then what was I going to do, run with it around my neck? I guess I COULD…hmm…NO… just keep running. Out the driveway, I focus on my breathing, settling into a nice pace. As I set my eyes on the road ahead of me, I notice the great textures in the gravel with red, white and gray pebbles illuminated by the rising sun. “Must. Have. Camera.” I think to myself, “…I could capture some amazing shots here…that ivy … the railroad tracks …that pile of firewood…the oil stains…squirrel…the graffiti on the overpass…the eucalyptus leaves.” Never mind. Just run. Resuming my gazelle-like form and speed, I trekked on.
By mile 3, I had seen a gazillion more shots and was trying to pick up the pace in order to return home for my camera. I shook my head in a scolding frustration, wondering if it would be physically possible to kick myself (it would have to be more of a heal jab than a full frontal toe-kick). As I rounded mile 4, I groaned at the deep purple plum tree leaves, and the old, battered pile of doors and windows in the back of a parked truck. Beyond them, vineyard equipment. Beyond that, a field of white and yellow flowers (wasn’t it late in the year for them to be blooming? And what is that bird doing over there?). I started blinking furiously as though I thought my eyes were capturing the shots. This, of course, translated to a twitchy, head-shaking, mumbling runner.
Not that I was distracted or anything, but at this point… I tripped. Okay, so maybe I run more like a clumsy giraffe than a gazelle (sorry if you’re a giraffe reading this). Fortunately, I regained my form without a complete face plant. You’d think this near fall would have reigned in my focus, or what little attention to running I could muster. But as I righted myself, I was face to face with a weathered barn full of character, covered in moss and old signs. With a shake of my head, I decided to walk the rest of the way home. It just seemed safer! That’s it, I was grabbing my camera and heading back out… with any luck, the lighting would still be good in some of the spots. My frustration abated, I turned up the driveway satisfied with my focus.”