The Wilds

I have a window in my office. Well, not really, I have a cube that has a window for a back wall. I see people running on this path just above the parking lot every day. It's under a series of high tension powerlines and runs on an old train path.

Today, the weather was finally bearable enough for me to explore this path during lunch. I've really been lax about my marathon training lately, as I've only been doing the long runs on Sunday and not getting in my midweek runs like I should.

It's sort of industrial and wilderness at the same time. I heard hundreds of crickets. I ran by an electrical tower every 200 feet. The best juxtaposition was a small oak sapling growing in the middle of the abandoned railroad track.

I'll have to bring a camera next time. There are some truly beautiful sights, including a marshy pond with purple flowers, black butterflies with yellow edged wings and a trampoline with black safety netting in the middle of a field.

The best part is the rail bridge that I had to slowly step across, from railroad tie to railroad tie, noticing flashes of water and grass 20 feet below. That'll get you thinking about your steps.

Jokers to the left of me

After my 17 mile training run yesterday, we made a family trip out to Whole Foods to get a few things. As we left the store to go to the parking garage, it started to really pour down rain. I told Jen and Jasper to wait for me out front of the store, while I went and got the car.

We'd parked on the fourth floor and my ankles were bothering me from the long run, so I decided to take the elevator for once. Big mistake. As I pushed the button for the fourth floor, a woman made a dash to join me in the elevator and just made it in time. The doors closed and we sat there. The elevator didn't move. We pushed "door open". Nothing. We pushed the button for ground floor. Nothing. We pushed the alarm button. Nothing. We were officially stuck.

I hit the call button and talked to some operator who asked if he could help us. I told him that we were stuck in the elevator at the parking garage at Church Park. He said that he could barely hear us and asked if we needed help. Now, I don't know about you, but when someone calls me from the phone line inside an elevator, I assume that they need some sort of assistance. It's not like I was calling him to see how his mom was doing. After repeating myself twice, he assured us help was on the way.

I realize that Jen and Jasper are still waiting for me out front. I take out my cell phone to call Jen, and I hear her phone ring in the backpack that I am carrying. D'oh. I have to call information and get the number for Whole Foods and tell the person who answers the phone there to go to the front of the store and find the blonde lady with the baby and tell her that her husband is stuck in the elevator.

Fifteen minutes of sauna time in the elevator later, I finally emerge on the second floor and hike the rest of the way to the car. Fun fun fun.

Dragonfly

About three times a year, I get a phone call from my father, asking me to go to the cemetery to burn offerings and bring a picnic for my grandparents who are buried there. Sometimes, there are very specific requests. Yesterday, I was told not to bring a chicken, but a duck. And the paper to be burned as offerings, was not the normal Hell Money, but instead, brightly colored paper, that represents bolts of bright cloth for our ancestors to use to make new clothing for the season. I suppose bright colors are always in in the after life.

On my father's request, Jen, Jasper and I went to the cemetery with our friends J. and A. in tow. Three of my four grandparents are buried at the Forest Hills Cemetery in the Jamaica Plain section of Boston. My mother's father is the exception, as he died in the Philippines. It was nice to be able to introduce the Chickpea to some of his great grandparents.

My mother's mother raised my brother and sister and I, while my parents were working 12 hour days. I can hardly believe that she's been gone for 7 years now. While we were at her grave, this dragonfly kept landing right next to where we were setting up. The dragonfly kept touching down on a flower that had lost all of its petals, like its wings were a peculiar bloom.

I was able to snap a picture of this. I'm not sure how I feel about capturing the moment in a photo. Often, it is more interesting when a story can't be verified. It makes it seem much more like myth. But the picture in itself is remarkable, I think.