The flight up started just too blessedly early, and it didn't help that Oxbridge and I had signed onto Gaia the night before and ended up meeting a really neat guy named Spiky Dude down at Merlo's Tavern and Bar (54 Barton 2564, highly recommended place. Even has bartenders in the evening). After an hour or so of chatting about anime and life (mostly life), I did one of those "Oh-dear-look-at-the-time-got-to-go-give-me-a-PM-in-the-AM" things. Got to sleep around 11:30, for a wake up at 4:15. sad
Oxbridge was his usual wonderful best, even if he is totally NOT a morning person (don't judge, the poor dear is a musician, after all) He packed my roll-aboard, made sure my novel was tucked in (Anne Bronte rocks!) and made me some toast and tea while I hopped around the living room getting dressed and trying to keep our puppy from thinking it was play time. A quick kiss and out the door. I was halfway to the airport when I realized I'd left the tea and toast on the kitchen counter.
I did get some sleep on the way up, but probably was a bit bleary all day. Never mind, though. Really, I get this travel energy the first day out. I even like popping about in the airport. San Francisco has a lovely little bookstore near the United gates, and if you ask nicely enough, the Mrs. See's people will give you free candy samples.
Thinking about those candy samples and their effect on my hips, I resolved to go for a run when I finally got to the hotel. I actually went outside while waiting in San Francisco, and it was perfectly lovely. Nice cool seabreezes. Obviously, Oregon would be even cooler.
Well, my meterological sense isn't really all that acute. I mean, in my mind, the North and South Poles have ice and penguins (Well, you must admit the North Pole ought to have penguins), and the equator has grass skirts. In between, weather should gradually grow warmer/cooler by latititude.
Nobody told Medford about my theory. It is quite warm here, albeit not as bad as home. For one, it's very dry--once again, my meterological preconceptions come a cropper, as I always assumed it was a damp state.
Nonetheless, it's very pretty with rolling not-as-green-as-expected hills and streams. Unfortunately, my stupid hotel is in the middle of an industrial zone, and I don't have time to hire a car and go about. So, it was up to my trusty pair of running shoes to at least get me some fresh air.
I soon was jogging along, feeling about as dry as dry could be. It was hot! And I kept passing nothing but car dealerships. Urg. Irritated with running along the main strip, I headed down between two dealerships, hoping for a back alley where I would at least have less of a chance of being run over.
This was where things changed. The alley had a footpath, and next thing you know, I'd found a community bike path along a shady river. It was like turning the wrong (or right) corner and finding oneself in faerie land. Tall weeping willows lined the streambed with bright lavender beneath.
Almost dizzy with the lavender scent (and perhaps a bit of heat exhaustion), I ran a half mile or so in the shade, the car dealerships a distant memory. Then I turned my ankle on a rise in the path. I am such a klutz. I lay there on the side of the path, feeling fairly stupid. But as I stretched my abused ankle out, I noticed that inches away from my nose was a blackberry bush. Most of the berries looked fairly shriveled, but in the deeper shade, a fair number of plump ones had survived.
Without consideration for the berries' survival instincts, I grabbed two handfuls and brushed off the dirt as best as I could then crammed them in my mouth. I must have been a sight, rolling about on the ground with dirty berry juice coming out of my mouth. But I was happy, so phbbbt! to the disapproving razz
Powerbars have nothing on semi-clean wild blackberries. I felt enervated, and ran for at least a mile or so until I suddenly came to a construction site and shopping mall. It was all tremendously ugly, but behind me were the willows and berries. I knew what direction I needed to head towards.
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