Fall's Magic and the Power of Outdoor Movement
What if to taste and see, to notice things,
to stand each is up against emptiness
for a moment or an eternity—
images collected in consciousness
like a tree alone on the horizon—
is the main reason we’re on the planet.
— from “Crows” by Marilyn Nelson
a lone goose high in the sky honking, a sign at a church — all are welcome!
Just back from a run by the Mississippi River Gorge, I sit down at my desk, open my computer, and write about what I noticed as I moved. Often, I compose a list of "10 Things I Noticed". These lists of what I saw, heard, felt, or smelled are usually short and basic: a few details, no metaphors. I’ve been composing them as part of my run for almost seven years, and they are a key element of my moving while writing and writing while moving practice. I include them in log entries I post on my blog, RUN!
the bells at St. Thomas chiming 9 times, goldenrod lining the edge of the path
These lists have helped me to develop better noticing skills, organize my thoughts, create an archive of images for my writing, deepen my connection to the place I move through, and even motivate me to get outside for a run when I’m reluctant. Sure, it's 5 below, but I need to write my list of 10 things I heard above the gorge!
3 empty benches, 5 stones stacked on the ancient boulder under the sprawling oak
Composing a list of 10 things you noticed is a great way to get in the habit of giving attention to the outside world and then remembering what you gave attention to. I like making it 10 because that number of items is more of an effort to remember than 5 or 6. This extra effort can lead to unexpected memories. Sitting down to make my list, I often wonder how I'll come up with as many as 10, but I almost always do. And the act of finding them, somewhere in my memory after my run, becomes part of the process, helping me to tap deeper into my passive attention.
turning leaves — mostly yellow a few streaks of red, the buzz of cicadas the hum of the traffic on the I-94 bridge and the river road
A list can be basic or have (almost) endless variations, like 10 things I heard, 10 smells, 10 things that flew in my face, 10 versions of red, 10 strange characters encountered, 10 signs that fall is coming, etc.
You can compose the list after you move, or in your head as you move, or by stopping every couple of minutes or blocks during your moving to add something to a list you carry with you on a piece of paper or that you’ve created on a voice memo on your phone. Most often I write them after I return home, but I also experiment with new ways to write. One method I recently developed: run 2 miles to the bottom of the hill near Franklin, walk or run back up the hill while dictating the list into a phone, then run the 2 miles back home.
When trying this list exercise, start simple. At the end of a walk, bike, hike, run, or whatever way you want to move, list 10 things you noticed while moving outside. Don’t embellish or interpret or create distance with metaphor. Just describe. As Marie Howe suggests in an interview for “On Being,” be present and with the thing itself. After a few weeks of creating these lists, experiment with the basic structure. Make the list more specific. Try documenting what you noticed in the midst of moving. Make a list of things you usually notice that were not there. Be creative, have fun, then see what happens!
a dog somewhere down below, near where I entered the Winchell Trail — not seen but its pounding paws and jingling collar were heard, a brown leather couch parked at the bike rack closest to the trestle
Want to try out the 10 Things I Noticed exercise and learn more about how it can work for your writing practice? Join me this fall for the online asynchronous class, "Finding Wonder in the World and the Words While Outside and in Motion: Fall." Class begins September 20th. Register now!
***Note: All items in italics were sourced from my “10 Things I Noticed” lists posted on RUN! in September of 2022.