I'm tapping away on a lovely new keyboard belonging to my lovely new little MacBook, the one, the only ... PixieP'dough. (Interesting name I have to little bit agree, but that's what's emerging. I just channel 'em, folks, just channel 'em.) So, yep, the newest family member has been migrated, and while I still have some playing to do, it is essentially like having my old computer in a faster, sleeker, shinier, spiffier new body!And, rowing -- 9 miles today! Yes, NINE! Water like the silkiest river glass, amazing. I could feel the glide, actually feel the slide into that hypnotic flow state for little pieces of the row. And, of course, rowing in shorts and short sleeves (in November!) never hurts. Never. Also that I had almost the entire river to myself. Saw two scullers on the way up, then a few boats on the way back when I was nearly done. Once I rowed past the Harvard area and out of Cambridge where people flock to the lawn alongside the river, perch on the benches, and picnic, read, study, sleep, once past all that population, the river gets a little wilder, trees line both sides with increasingly bare branches, and there's only the distant hum of traffic (and occasionally a closer roar -- there ARE roads on both sides of the river, though blocked by trees farther upstream). Upstream the river was a mirror, occasionally the reflection so sharp I had to pause for a second, make sure it wasn't something on the water to avoid. The only thing disturbing the surface is the puddles from my blades, and the ripples emanating out. Yellow leaves are beginning to congregate on the surface in patches. Yes, today was something special, something to absorb and try to press in as many fleeting sensory details as possible to hold close through the coming winter, like a squirrel cherishing its most-prized nut.
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