earth on foot 1
may 27, 2025
Between May 14 and May 18, I ran along the Mediterranean Sea (Israel), the Mississippi River (St. Paul, MN), and the Sumida River (Tokyo).
The Mediterranean with its open shore goes from teal to cobalt to sea glass green within an hour. With bionic vision from my path you could see Turkey, Greece or Cyprus. I only saw a troubled horizon.
One so unlike the languorous, moody Mississippi! Mostly hidden from me on my runs, I spied it behind green trees, roiling beneath storm clouds (a tornado threatened while we were there). How can a river so large be so hard to catch a glimpse of?
My grandfather, at age 19, put a canoe in here and rode it all the way to river’s end, New Orleans. I thought of him as I stood on the Washington Avenue bridge, looking south to his future, my gram there too, saying goodbye to him as he pushed off—goodbye for now. In my dream, the wooden canoe is painted forest green.
Now, we are staying near the broad, convex, matter-of-fact Sumida which snakes through Tokyo. Everywhere I run along its grey stone paths I see the Tokyo Skytree, the tallest tower in the world, a tower I have a habit of anthropomorphizing as if it’s got a cute, quirky personality that likes to photobomb pictures wherever it can. At night colorful lights broadcast from the narrow spire. Three waterways, one week, enjoying the earth on foot.
