Today appeared to be another relatively uneventful day. It's actually difficult to characterize just what's going on, but I think the best way to describe things is a sense of consolidation. I don't feel like I'm really making much progress, and I don't think I'm falling behind. There's movement, but it's not particularly deliberate in any direction. I'm marking time, standing post, spearing a fish every now and then, but largely just awaiting direction.
These are the type of time periods when I find that managing my willfulness becomes a bit difficult. I find it challenging to decide where the time has matured to the point that I should do something to gain a little momentum and steerage or if I should just continue to wait. At the end of the day, it probably does not matter much which path I choose to pursue, but these are the times of uncertainty. The times of questioning motives.
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| Sentinel on the Severn |
Perhaps I'll take my cue from the heron. Today, he was content with standing as a sentinel on the Severn. He flew when I got too close, but he returned to his post almost immediately upon my departure. He stood and waited and allowed the grey day unfold. It's a good enough approach for now, and we'll see what unfolds tomorrow. Marking time at thirteen miles per day.
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