Idle and Blessed

You are the future, the red sky before sunrise over the fields of time. You are the cock's crow when the night is done, you are the dew and the bells of matins, maiden, stranger, mother, death. You create yourself in ever-changing shapes that rise from the stuff of our days -- unsung, unmourned, undescribed, like a forest we never knew. You are the deep innerness of all things, the last word that can never be spoken. To each of us you reveal yourself differently: to the ship as the coastline, to the shore as a ship. -Rilke

Method for coping with Atlanta summers as a runner: Start in the shade Follow all shady sidewalks Dodge sunny spots When you hit half your mileage goal, turn around Follow shady sidewalks back home If all else fails, escape to a shady oasis of trails. The drive is worth it. The shade-chasing method must be followed from April through October. It’s a rough 7 months. I’ve heard some people actually enjoy the feeling of scorching heat on their skin; I don’t understand. The persistence and intensity of southern summer heat never gets easier for me to manage. I remember growing up as a kid in Tennessee laying on the living room floor under the ceiling fan asking myself how I did this last year. These days in Atlanta I feel like I may be suffocating. The heat is so harsh. It’s incompatible with life. Inhospitable to flourishing. My entire exile in Atlanta, so far 3 years, has been one long summer. It has been a time of heat, a draining of my resources,...