You think in your idle hours that there is literature, history, science, behind you so accumulated as to exhaust thought and prescribe your own future…In your sane hour you shall see that not a line has yet been written; that for all the poetry that is in the world your first sensation on entering a wood or standing on the shore of a lake has not been chaunted yet. It remains for you; so does all thought, all objects, all life remain unwritten still.

~Emerson

 

Note: the best definition I was able to find of Chaunt was from a 1938 dictionary: A slow solemn song

New fast time for Belcher, at White Ranch, 46:43 from the bottom to the top, and 35:32 back down: by the lots, around Sawmill down the second half of Mustang and back to the bottom lot, for a total of 1:22:35. Felt pretty good.

 

I'll be the first to say its really not about time.

 

As always, thanks to everyone i get to ride with.

…..i want you tell me something you are passionate about, let the words start coming out of your mouth, build your case, draw from metaphors and stories, establish the range, assert your vision. Field my questions, let me be a catalyst, let anything be a catalyst (be that brave), validate your dynamic at every waypoint. Until the momentum of the thing brings you to an apex, and you catch yourself and wonder if you’ve gone to far; over extended. But then it comes over you, it comes back to you, that you haven’t.

Not with me. You are safe here.

He is unaware of this, but my neighbor is sort of an oracle. This is fine excuse to make up a new word:

 Sortacle

So I decide it would be nice to go for a walk, as I begin down the street there is my neighbor, I say hello and explain that I thought it would be nice to go for a walk. I comment on his small, 5ft by 10ft flower garden that he has in front of his house, that it is looking good. He takes a fair amount of pride in it, and I know that he enjoys talking about it. I enjoy hearing him talk about it. And one thing about him talking is that he pretty much does it on his own, he doesn’t need any help or participation from me, he really doesn’t need me to even listen. If my mind is off somewhere else that is fine with him, till we come back at a point we both have in common. Which point usually sounds like:

Yep, sure looks nice…

But sometimes his random, non-sequitur nature and my tendency to pick up something said and run in a different direction with it makes for some interesting conversations. Kind of like when people will grab a book and open to a random page and look for something of meaning in it. Or like fortune cookies.

So the conversation went kind of like this:

Hello… decided it would be nice to go for a walk

“Yep, real nice. I’m out here to work on the garden. The wife isn’t holding up her end of the bargain. I said I would plant them and she said she would weed them. But she has fallen down on the job a bit.”

Oh, well sure looks nice

“well THANK YOU!” (louder than necessary, but the enthusiasm is neat)

there is a pause. He stares with his hands clasped behind his back looking down at the bushy green plant with charming purple-ish flowers.

“These Cosmos are out of place.”

Dude. Stop. Could not have said it better myself. Well there it is. Ya, that is why I needed the walk … He continues on about which plant should be where, and why that would be important. I am miles away but in agreement that the cosmos is out of place.

Eventually he comes to another item of discussion that requires my direct participation. An important announcement was being made:

“We bought two trees that we are going to plant.”

oh didja?

“yep”

pause.

 “They’re Fruitless………..

unbelievable. He goes on explaining what specific breed of fruitless trees, but that hardly seems to matter. They are fruitless. I am laughing pretty much to myself, considering the sky, the cosmos, and fruitlessness. We go on in our seperate directions, until eventually we came to a point of conclusion and agreement:

Yep, sure looks nice…