Friday, February 18, 2011


Evelyn: Chest puffed, gear in place, perched on the edge of a wall miles in the air, he stood on the precipice - intensely gazing at the lot of cars. "I am here, protector of the Dandelions, guardian of the wall... and I will jump into action when the wind blows, when a key is dropped, when the gravel has been moved!" This has been the third week he has watched me park, socialize, and leave.

Monica: Today's word gave me an excuse to do something I don't do enough of: jump. I remember the energy and agility of childhood, how I would spend my days literally running around. Jumping, skipping, climbing, swinging, twirling and sliding were the standard repertoire of my daily activity. As I got older and my body grew out of its lanky lightness, these movements became streamlined into specific activities: dance, yoga, bicycling, and swimming. Somewhere along the line, I began to spend more time sitting, standing, and walking than anything else. I don't want to stop reveling in the joy of movement. I want to keep jumping for as long as I can.

1 comment:

  1. I have a little shadow that goes in and out with me,
    And what can be the use of him is more than I can see.
    He is very, very like me from the heels up to the head;
    And I see him jump before me, when I jump into my bed.

    The funniest thing about him is the way he likes to grow--
    Not at all like proper children, which is always very slow;
    For he sometimes shoots up taller, like an india-rubber ball,
    And he sometimes gets so little that there's none of him at all.
    -- R. L. Stevenson