Sunday, December 21, 2014

Solstice. Or: The End of the World as We Know It.

I feel fine.

Even though the earth is sooooooo far away from the sun. It does this every year and it means tomorrow my sunlight quota will be just a tad larger.

I am a little tired of rain. I am thankful for it too, and feel guilty to be tired of it. It is just that my running shoes are so very wet. And my dog gets so muddy. And it is hard sometimes to even get out the door. For a run, or for anything. I could easily lay abed all day long, sipping coffee, reading, listening to the rain on my roof. It turns out work is kind of important though. To me, and my family.

If my husband's book sells enough, maybe I can follow my dream of doing medicine for those with the greatest need, without depending on pay. Also, I could probably lay in bed more, play more piano, run more and cook a decent meal every single night.

Today, I ran with oldest daughter and it was eerie. She thought it was kind of like running on clouds. I felt like I was looking at the edge of the earth. Like the earth had an end that you could dive off of and just fall into an infinite abyss.

Marsh, Dec 21, 2014

What would it feel like to face the end of the world?
Would it be like one of your children in danger, on a path of self-destruction?
Would it be like a mountain lion staring you down on a path, when you least expect it?
Would it be like falling asleep?

Marsh, Dec 21, 2014

It is a good thing we have markets. In the old days, I imagine the whole winter solstice thing was pretty grim. Will we starve? Probably. Let's have some kind of celebration and try to ward off that whole depressing prospect. 

Mother Nature is the bomb. Isn't she?

Marsh, Dec 21, 2014

The smell of pine tree in one's home reminds you that things live, even in the winter. Of course, in California this is sort of a given. There is not the deep freeze to make you feel like you were never actually warm for one day in your entire life. In California, the winter months actually might be the most alive of all. Rain brings green and it quenches a thirsty state of denial. I like to avoid puddles when I first start my runs, but once I realize the futility, I just plough through those guys, mud splatters be damned. A hot bath after such exercise is one of my favorite things.

Marsh, Dec 21, 2014

I will miss Stephen Colbert's Report. I will miss the current AHS XC Team. I will miss being a year younger. Goodbye to the potential of 2014. Impermanence. Blah blah blah.

Still, it rains. The children grow and the old people forget. The country takes two steps forward, five back and then scratches its proverbial head and laces up its sneakers for another go-round. Every year that passes, a sub-3 marathon becomes less probable. Still, it rains, and I run and tomorrow will be a longer day and a shorter night. 

It is not bad. And I feel fine.


  1. I just love getting a glimpse into your brain through these blogs.
    Gives me food for thought...

  2. Wonderful photos illustrate your daughter's "running on clouds" observation. Ha ha: I get the dry-to-sopping shoe game!