A Few Questions

How are you different from a road? How do you move? What do you hear? Where do you go? Can you change people? Do you remember me? Do you move? What do you see? Do you get cold? Can one or I? Why would leave? Would stay? Can a blank advance or what about solid? Can a need? What about the politics? Is the selfish walking? Ghoul? How permanent? How remarkable? Was it on purpose? How elegant? Does it vary? Which way? What is lost and what is gained? Why challenge? How permanent? Do you remember? Can you repeat? Will you fill in the blanks once left to return?

How are you different from a road? A road? Spring. How do you move? Effluent, signing. How do you move? What do you mean, who moves? How do you move? Effluent, signing. What do you hear? I hear many creatures seeing, hearing. Where do you go? Dimensional. Where do you go? Forward. Where do you go? Who goes? Can you change people? I don't do. Do you remember me? Which? Do you move? That depends. Do you move? Perpendicular. What do you see? The road. Do you get cold? Who is that beside you? Do you get cold? The night gets cold. Can one or I? Yes, maybe. Why would leave? To stay. Would stay? Maybe. Can a blank advance or what about solid? There is nobody in that beside you, is there. Can a blank advance or what about solid? Air moves through the various elevations at certain rates. Frontal in the springtime. Do not look at the boulder or lightning will strike your house. Can a need? House. What about politics? Who? Is the selfish walking? Ghoul. Ghoul? Check the hour, the shopping list. How permanent? Depends. Can a need? Yes, maybe. How remarkable? Yes, maybe. Was it on purpose? Yes, maybe. Was it on purpose? Do I know you? Were you in my apartment?

How elegant? Sigh. How elegant? As the heave of knee. Does it vary? It elopes. Which way? You should always stay on a marked trail. If you discover you are on an animal trail, turn around and proceed back to a marked, human trail. What is lost and what is gained? Hello. What is lost and what is gained? Your accessories. What is lost and what is gained? Your answers will change. What is lost and what is gained? I don't know. Yes, maybe. Why challenge? Swamp. How are you different from a road? You are afraid to hitchhike. You will have no way to get home. A road? How permanent? House permanent. Do you remember? Yes, maybe. Do you remember? No. Can you repeat? No. Will you fill in the blanks once left to return? I will not. Could you? I could not. Is it by choice? House choice. Will you fill in the blanks once left to return? To what?

The inside outside

Cancellations abound. The regular lull is exceeding its pin. Lobe of tree, stop tucking in, lobe of sky also tucking in. On the scale of easy? Why or why not. Here or there. You either go or you don't go. You either spool up or let the day drag behind you. You are so fast. Who are you to be so fast? (speed is to height is to depth? Note to self to look that up.)

Grass is out

The grass is back out. I hoarded keys, walked here from the town next door. We walked here from the town next door. Screen door, reptile, pride, a bird landed on the fence because it was his fence. Screen door, reptile, pride.
Stretch before and after the fray - take advice for stretching. Take advice about committing attention to. There were two fences. We had the keys to both. One fence was wooden - it was an attractive fence, low to the ground, whitewashed, with reflectors evenly distributed across the top beam. The other fence was metal. It was taller. The edges of the constituent wires extended above the top beam, like barbing. One fence was to keep cars on the road, the other fence was to keep cars out of the Santa Monica Mountains conservancy land. One fence was behind the other fence. Which one did you pay attention to? I payed attention to both. I payed attention to neither. I payed attention to the places where the grass overran the path vs. the places where the path didn't allow grass to grow.
So which? No, you weren't there. I didn't tell you I was going. I reserved the muscle burn. I called only close relatives late. I watched a coyote cross the dip between roads. I attended the coyote and the dip and the roads.

Mt. Washington and Rest

My knees are hurt again, so I am taking a break, even though I had the time to hike today. Hikes are either with or without any given person. I have plans to hike with many of my friends, and the attitude of each anticipated hike is determined by the kind of friendship we have. Instead of hiking, I think about how a path crosses things out, and I consume.

When my knees hurt I think about my knees, and right now they don't hurt so much. I am thinking about whether or not I manipulated my activity so as to bring on pain, and why I would do that. Why would someone do that? To talk about it? To take a break? To talk about it is not to take a break, but rather to obscure the line. The line is vital. The line crosses unnecessary things out. Other things are happening. It is important to keep reminding the text that other things are happening, but also vital that I never mention them.



I walked last night through Mt. Washington at dusk. All the stray cats in Mt. Washington are black. All the bushes are deep green right now, the air is red. The sky had red in it, too. The city was white, but through the air looked green, as if seen through glass.

I walked with someone last night, and I talked too much. I told too much and now my knees hurt. I am taking a break from telling. Nothing will be told for a little while. I outdid myself. For the next few days, things will only be hinted at.

Echo Mountain

I went by myself, today, to echo mountain. Everybody I passed was going in the opposite direction. It was hot; I sat down. Off the side of the cliff I could see Altadena, Pasadena, the downtown skyline. There was strange land, strange air.



I went at the hottest part of the day. I forgot about the heat. I had to sit down along the side of the mountain under a hedge. I picked up a rock and ate a piece of fruit; I drank water. The temperature was much higher on one side of the switchbacks than on the other. I had to sit down and rest under the shade of some bushes. What kind of bushes are these?



These bushes are staying longer. At the top of echo mountain are ruins. You can call the ruins on the echo phone.



Nobody will answer. The echo phone points nowhere. The train is not coming. The sun is not setting, either. Down by the dance hall, I startle some deer.

Simultaneous to this hike, several things were happening, things that are very important and that regard my personal life. I checked in. On the way up the mountain, my legs grew wobbly as I began to think about the heat. It is difficult to tell which way is directly up. This will reoccur; it is almost impossible to determine which direction constitutes the directly up. Verticality is imperfectly replaced by time, which is mediated by strength. For some people, when the mind kicks in, vision kicks out. For other people, the knees fold in and out without the mind.



At times, I will admit, I did not pay attention. I was startled out of some blankness by the appearance of a sign that indicated a junction. I did not feel lonely until I reached the top and saw my old house and what had become of it.



Seeing the stairs and what had become of them, I was forced to admit that I do nothing without thinking of what I will tell you about it. After all, I met you in order to invite you over. I maintained our relationship so I could fall in love with you, and then I could tell you everything. I maintained our friendship so I could show you this picture of my house. We never sat here, exactly. We never waited for the sun to set, here.

The Leg

The system of the leg, for example, is immediate to the leg. The system of the extension and recoiling of the leg. From the brain comes a netting of leg options that is loosed upon the various land rocks and river rocks. The leg considers the leg options and drops. The leg communicates with the foot. The foot either does or does not find footing. Much of the activity of the leg depends on whether or not anybody is around. Does another person consider your leg? And if so, is that from the inside or the outside? It is rare that I am by myself, says the leg. The leg is not lonely. The leg extends knowing already that it will extend into. No effort is wasted. Don't you want to wait for me? My net blows out into the wind. There is a person I am with. His net blows out into the wind. They brush by each other and both nets land cleaner.

On The Other Side Of The City

A very long time ago, a woman was looking for a room in the perplexed rings of streets. There were no rooms; she found a gate and walked through it. On the other side of the gate was another city with better arches and innovative vertical public transportation. She moved into this new city, put her desk next to the window and plotted her route to the grocery store. She put up curtains next to her windows and put clothes in her closet. Overall, her apartment was spacious and bright. The city was spacious and bright. The buildings were white, and the air never stopped rolling through. After a week, she began to feel lonely, so she went back and invited a primary group of people to join her. These people invited more people, and their friends followed. Eventually, in the old city, only the hotel people stayed. The hotel people stayed up all night, pleased that everything was now useful. A cat lurked by the back door of the hotel. The hotel people kept their name pins on and for a few years they ran the sprinklers. Then the sprinklers stopped running. The ice makers stopped making ice. On the other side of the hotel was a city. One day the hotel people left, too. On the other side of the city is another city. On the other side of a city, is city.

A Side Trail

First Leg

I just returned from my first overnight trip up and down the Tuolumne meadows segment of the PCT. A little dazzled, I thought a lot about myself, and about how difficult it is to carry a heavy pack up an incline at elevation. I thought a lot about bodies. The city is a hole I want to stick my head out of again, and soon. On the other side of a city is nothing but the city. It is difficult to describe natural elements without understanding their processes. "Reaching," for example, is not quite right for what a tree does, when it extends from a bed of rock. Back in LA I go for a walk at dusk, encounter four raccoons "marching" across the street. They are "in formation." A family? I thought a lot about family, and about being alone, and about being in the company of others.

Mount Washington Dr.

I am making preparations to hike a first small leg of the trail in August. Leaving from the Tuolomne Meadows, we will hike up through Yosemite - the part of Yosemite that John Muir returns to in Steep Trails. I am reassured that snow packs will have melted and we will not lose the trail due to invisibility. A friend says to "stay on a trail, any trail, even if you later discover that it is an animal trail. Maybe you will reach a thicket of brush with a tunnel underneath. You can't go there, through the tunnel that is, but at least you know how to get back." In preparation for the hike, I have been walking up and down steep trails in my neighborhood, Mount Washington, with a fully packed backpack. My legs are getting strong, but today my knees do hurt.