Taking my own advice

Three days ago I posted "Slow Dance," a poetic admonition to slow down and appreciate life's little blessings.

Today I did just that.

At mid-morning on my day off, I drove out West Burnside to where the Wildwood Trail takes you uphill and into the maze of trails that criss-cross Hoyt Arboretum. I hadn't been up there for weeks and at first I dreaded my choice because I could see a big knot of schoolkids and their chaperones scattered along the trail and on a footbridge.

I weaved my way through them with little problem, however, and quickly found myself alone on the trail. As I approached the crest of the hill, I noticed a little brown field mouse scurrying from left to right across my path.

I got to the top, stopped running, turned off my iPod and ventured onto a side trail, appreciating the quiet and the fact it wasn't raining for a change. I leaned in to see the tree identification markers as I passed by the jack pine and lodgepole pine, appreciating the staff's thoughtfulness. A few yards down the path, I paused to see if a bird I had noticed would alight on a branch. It was a hummingbird -- and it did. Normally a beautiful sight as it hovers like a mini-helicopter, this one took a moment to rest and laid its wings flat against its body, letting me come within six feet before taking off.

Another few yards down the path, I heard a rustling on the ground. I peered to my right into the undergrowth and, after a moment of concentration, spotted a brown furball -- a young rabbit.

Wow. In less than 10 minutes of leaving the city behind for the forest, I'd spotted three critters.

I turned around, headed back to the main trail and ran for another 20 minutes before coming to the Oregon Vietnam Veterans Living Memorial (above). I stopped for a few minutes to pay my respects and walk silently around the curving granite wall. As I was about to exit, I came upon a panel of names I'd never noticed before: a list of servicemen believed to be Missing in Action. A few asterisks had been added to those whose remains were subsequently found. Pretty sobering.

All of this -- the encounters with wild creatures, the thoughts that come from witnessing a list of Oregon service members who've made the ultimate sacrifice, the pleasure of running on a soft surface while dodging the puddles -- wouldn't have happened if I'd run my regular route with the usual mindset. I think I would do well to remember to "Slow Dance" more often.

Photograph: Sam Grover