River Brown

I feel just like one of those moments pulled out of the Calkins’ Units of Study where she highlights for students how writers go about picking their topic, “let me see, what could I write about… Oh! I know! I could write about the time when I fell of the ladder trying to reach the box of donuts at the back of the pantry or I could write about this morning when I showed up at the wrong school.” Tap my head as if the ideas are just the beginning. “Writers today I want to teach you that when writers think of a topic for their piece they think about things that have happened to them.”
Well let me see what has happened to me… I watched a beautiful yet frightening documentary called Gasland which explains the effects of hydraulic fracturing (this is the process by which we get natural gas). And it left me with some horrifying images such as the one where a lighter is held to running water from a kitchen faucet and it bursts into flames or a cat balding because its fur is falling out. So many homes affected and people’s health ruined, it left me wondering if it was really worth it…
I also went to Mountain View and enjoyed the brief sunshine on Sunday. Walking in the cold air was wonderful as was standing in the rays of the sun. The streets were busy with people walking about and a few braving the chill to eat outside. I loved watching all the boots trod by and hearing them click on the pavement. I enjoyed a nice hot lunch of a burrito in a bowl covered in cheese and just so steamy that it warmed my stomach. The rice and beans blended together so that I could scoop them up with chips. The three salsas were each spicy and delicious that I practically finished them all.
I went to the gym and worked out my legs – yes I did weights for legs. I started by warming up on the treadmill, running at a brisk pace for ten minutes. From there I went on to doing single leg curls and extensions which made me sweat heavily. Then it was squats – dear God why do I do this? The first set sent my legs burning and made me wonder why I torture myself, but the drops of sweat felt so invigorating that I added more weight and did three more sets without complaining or pleading to God. From there I moved to the leg press and that was agonizing but I didn’t care because I was covered in sweat and it just felt so relieving so natural that I did my sets without hesitation. By the time I walked out of the gym, my clothes were drenched in stinky sweat and I felt like a hero.
Last night I crawled into bed early, snuggled deep into my blankets and just breathed. The comfort of my bed relaxed me so much that I imagined no other place in the world was as magical as one’s bed. Feeling warm and deeply relaxed I propped myself up on some pillows and read. The pale purple of my walls was soothing and the soft glow of the lights made it perfect for reading. I was so absorbed in my book that I forgot I was in the security of my room and had to remember that I was home. I was home, in the place where nothing could go wrong, in the nurturing essence of my room, and in the warmth of my cozy bed. I switched off the lights, dropped the book to the floor and fell asleep.