Category: walking

Thursday’s Theme Music

Newport, Oregon — Thursday, May 21, 2026.

Fog struck. The wind’s been strong the entire visit. Today, it felt like it shifted into a higher gear, cutting through our clothing with an icy edge. 52 F in the morning, the day’s high would be 58 F, but the wind would make it feel much colder.

We checked out early, heading north just a few miles, to Newport. Here we’ll stay two more nights. A new hotel, a new view, but it’s the same ocean and Oregon coast.

Meanwhile, we stopped at our favorite coastal eatery, The Green Salmon. It’s all vegan there. After a satisfying breakfast — “Only Murders in the Building” omelet for me — we fought the wind walking on the 804 trail for ten minutes. Retreating from nature, we went north to Depoe Bay to see if any whales were hanging around. Short answer: no.

Retracing our steps, we went back down Highway 101 to Nye Beach. A bookstore popular with us, Nye Beach Book House, was no longer a business. We stopped at a bakery and shared a large frosted cinnamon roll, hot out of the oven. Then, on to our Newport hotel, Hallmark and checked in. Once we were settled in, my wife napped. I went for a walk on the beach, one mile in each direction, battered by the wind in both directions. As long as I didn’t look at the buildings overlooking the beach, I could pretend that I was an exploring, the first to walk on this stretch of land. As it was entirely empty, it was entirely believable.

Is it any wonder that The Neurons are playing “Against the Wind” in the morning mental music stream? Well, it started in the morning but it played all day. The 1980 song was a hit for Bob Seger, who wrote and performed it. It’s about looking back and thinking about the choices made. Besides the wind, being alone on that beach made this song a good companion piece because of that connection about reflecting on life.

As far as the news goes, we went without knowing anything until about an hour ago. We’re just starting to reconnect with the world again. I see that Trump’s war has now been going 82 days — longer than the four to five weeks that he once claimed.

I see that the Epstein files still aren’t released and the price of gas here is still high, as it does across the nation.

It seems like Trump is counting on his ballroom to distract us as part of Operation Epic LOOK — SQUIRREL! Trump is now babbling about the ballroom’s roof as a drone base and snipers’ nests. Not sure why he thinks either are needed as part of Washington D.C. Maybe he’s planning to stay there, hunker down after he’s removed from the Oval Office.

I hope your day was as satisfying for you as my day was for me.

Cheers

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Monday’s Theme Music – A Sunny Day

Ashland, Oregon, April 13, 2026.

We begin the day with rain, which is expected to continue off and on into the evening. It’s 50 now with a high of 54 F possible. Sunshine does break through, but clouds quickly rush over to block it.

It’s another Trump day. We’re now into week seven of Trump’s Iran War. Trump is blockading the Strait of Hormuz to keep it open and bring Iran to its knees after assuring us, “We won.”

The peace president continues to threaten to bomb Iran if they don’t capitulate. That’s the ‘art of the deal’ for you. It’s worked wonders so far.

The Pope’s comments about peace and the Iran war outraged the peace president. Peace president Trump blasted the Pope on crime and foreign policy, areas which Trump has demonstrated no knowledge in. That means that he assumes he knows more than anyone else, in his mind.

To complete the journey around the bend, Trump shared a social media post likening himself to Jesus. Jesus, who helped the poor and sick and counseled against wealth, greed, and rich men; and Trump, who lies, makes life more miserable for the poor and sick, whose names is almost a synonym for 21st century greed and avarice. Trump certainly remains tone deaf to irony.

Happily, over in Hungary, Viktor Orbán appears out after losing the election and conceding. I hope that’s an omen that more positive change is coming.

Today’s music is brought to me by my dreams. I went through another long one last night. Loaded with family, many of my family members were often on bicycles while I was walking or running. We mostly stayed in contact during this shambolic excursion, which was sometimes alongside a river and was mostly on a dusty road. I was young in the dream, and often sweaty. There were stops for food and eating, and beds where I sometimes stopped and rested. While doing that once, an older copy sat on the bed’s edge to rest. Remembering that I wanted to tell my sister and her husband something, I sprang up from the bed, apologizing to them for startling them. I noticed that the man looked like Alan Rickman.

I was thinking about the dream, revisualizing the part where I began running along the river, when The Neurons introduced music to the morning mental music stream. CCR came out with “Walk on the Water” after John Fogarty’s brother died from a blood transfusion. The song makes sense to me because it’s about being near home.

Late last night, I went for a walk
Down by the river near my home
Couldn’t believe, with my own eyes
And I swear I’ll never leave my home again

Hope peace and grace lift you up and carry you through all your adversity and troubles.

We’re off to do Food & Friends deliveries.

Cheers

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To Continue

A Suite of Thoughts

“Shiny”

Pennies and nickels
Money we hold
Kept in jars
Doesn’t fold
Saved for
Rainy days
Other times
Dust collecting
As we add dimes
Quarters are coveted
Wash and wax
Till someone else
Counts the cash

“Going By”

Shadows dance
On mind walls
Coming alive
Hearing old songs
Whispering
Remember
When you see a smile
Ordering
Forget
When you freeze
For a while
Always there
Awakened
And dead
The people
You’ve met
The person
You’ve been

“Orientation”

Just like that
There I am
Slipping along
A spectrum
I don’t understand
Looking for footing
As I
Slide along
Grasping for pieces
Hoping to right
Wrongs
Smiling
Like everything’s ‘okay’
Looking for spaces
In places
Where I sit
Struggling
With something
To say

“Dwelling”

It’s just a moment
To explore the day
Lost in thought
Feeling old
Maybe gray
Hunting for a mood
That’s muddied
And sullen
Hoping answers
Might come
From sources
Hidden
I’ll sit a while
In this well of mine
Doing my business
Thinking
About time

“Reconsidering”

Framing comes
With a frozen
Snap
I blink again
Wondering
Where I’m at
How much time
Has passed me by
As I sit
Reflecting
Wondering why
Maybe it’s time to stand
And stretch
Get on with life
And off the bench

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Wenzdaz Wandering Thoughts

The markers of familiarity intrigue me. I like to walk and friends and strangers comment on seeing me walking around town. People often mention they know me by my hat and its flair. My flair reveals my interests in writing, coffee, beer, the Steelers, and being retired military and living in Oregon.

On my end, I know several dogs who come into the coffee shop by name but I don’t know their owners’s names. People socialize differently with animals. The baristas and other customers often talk to the dogs by name. But even when people talk to the owners, names are rarely used, a facet of behavior which intrigues me.

Things are changing, though. This week, I learned that sweet Lenny’s owner is a retired sociology professor. Happy and social Sugar’s people are Thomas and Alice. Bear — who lives up to his name with his size but is a friendly, relaxed pup — belongs to Norm and Sarah. In this way, gaps are closing, and we’re all becoming friendlier and more open.

Today, Jessica didn’t know my name or regular coffee order. She did remember my Co-op number and knew that I was Brenda on that account. She and I enjoyed a good laugh about it.

Little interactions like all of these help enliven the coffee shop writing life for me.

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Twozdaz Wandering Thoughts

I live on Clay Street. Diane Street is three blocks away. It’s to the north, so it’s ‘up north’. But it’s at a lower elevation, so it’s ‘down the road.’ I pretty comfortably hold these two ideas in mind, even though they might appear to be at odds with one another. I suspect that this is why so many of The Neurons are packing up and abandoning me.

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Sundaz Theme Music

Sundaz has slipped in, wrapping an autumn day around its shoulders. Sunshine and clouds and shuffling and bumping one another. Temperatures are moldering around the low 50s with plans for the high 50s. We’re now halfway through the eleventh month of 2025, as it’s November 16, 2025. With 2025 slinking toward the end, we wonder, are we on the right path as a nation? My Neurons answer with a resounding, “Hell, no.”

My sisters reported on progress cleaning Mom’s house out. She’s lived there thirty plus years. Stuff accumulates. Bills and paperwork. Memorabilia. Clothing. Food, utensils, bowls, dishes. Three sisters reported for duty, taking what they wanted for themselves, otherwise tossing things, filling up the trash and recycling cans. Sad, depressing, normal.

Today’s music comes from being outside at midnight last night. (Yes, it was a cat thing.) I was looking for the moon, the northern lights, meteorites, alien spaceships, bears, cougars, etc. But The Neurons took it in a different direction, bringing up a cover of “Shame on the Moon” by Bob Seger and the Silver Bullet Band. I remember that song arriving on the radio scene and singing it to myself later as I walked at night, admiring the moon. It’s a mellow song for a mellow day when they tell us rain is on the way.

It’s Sunda so the news cycle is slow. I can’t pretend to guess what Traziness will strike. He’s retreating on tariffs, sweating bullets over the Epstein files, and continues to rule over Project 2025 chaos, inflicting dumbassery and cruelty wherever and whenever. The Trump Epstein Shutdown is over but the Trump Epstein Shitshow goes on.

Have a great Sunda. I’m gonna strive to do the same. Coffee is up. Here we go, one more time. Cheers

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Seasons

Breaking away from writing, I step out for a walk. The sun has warmed us to a comfortable level. I stride along, nodding and saying hello to others encountered.

A shineless brown hot rod comes along. Roadster. Something out of the forties. Driven by a man who looks like he also originated in the forties, and a woman who might be a little younger, maybe even his daughter, as a passenger, bundled up in heavy clothes.

Putting along at 20 MPH, he guides the car to the side and waves a following vehicle past. Silver SUV, its twenty something driver gooses it faster. An electric vehicle, it glides by with a rising brash hum.

The scene on a small-town street seems so perfectly emblematic of change. Trees and their colors tell of the season changing around us, and there goes an old internal combustion car of a kind rarely seen, passed by an electric car, of the kind now commonly encountered.

Reality couldn’t have been better staged.

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Mundaz Wandering Thoughts

I’ve often stated that I write to help me understand what I think. Writing is a process that forces me to slot things into a more coherent order. That process helps me dig up what’s really bugging me below the surface of my reactions.

I spent time yesterday walking and then writing myself a letter. It was almost like meditating for me, with surprising results. Turned out that I was angrier, more frustrated, and more depressed than I realized. Baring it all to myself helped me shed those things and reinvigorate myself. Some of the anger was irrational, railing at life for the afflictions happening to friends and family. Some, on a deeper level, were revelations to myself about how I perceived others and my relationships with them.

But once again, writing came through for me. I’m happy with the outcome. Purging my psyche of that anger and depression lifted my spirits and restored my energy levels.

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