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.”