Revising, as I’ve mentioned, is really intense right now, so I’m making sure I take breaks whenever I need them. Today at midday, I decided I needed a walk to clear my head. However, it’s 41°F (5°C) outside today, a heat wave the likes of which I’ve apparently forgotten how to cope with; I put on my longjohns, my wool socks, my arm warmers, my scarf, my hat liner, and spent the first few minutes dying of heat and pulling off layers. It’s amazing outside! The river has been iced over for weeks, but today there’s a sheen of melted water on top. The geese are walking around on the ice in the usual manner, except that it’s more slippery today, so each step includes a little unsteady slide which doesn’t seem to cause them the panic that sort of thing causes me. I suppose if my center of gravity were six inches off the ground and I had webbed feet bigger than my head and could fly, I wouldn’t panic either.
Because of the sheen of water, each goose had a bright and perfect reflection, which is unusual for a goose walking on ice. They were drinking from the sheen of water, and it wasn’t like the way a cat drinks water with quick laps of the tongue; it was more like a woodpecker somehow, or a drill. It was making a lot of percussive noise. The geese were marvelous, they were just the break I needed from writing. Then I noticed myself trying to find the right words to describe them and made myself stop, because that’s not a break from writing. Then I noticed myself writing a blog post about how I went for a walk and saw some geese and tried to find the right words to describe them but made myself stop because it wasn’t a break from writing, and made myself stop that, too, because that wasn’t a break from writing either. Then I noticed myself adding the line to the blog post about how I just made myself stop writing the blog post… At which point I gave up trying to control my mind on my walk. I’m sure it was an excellent break from something.