Ten to seven: Reading’s signature, the Pagoda, glows red on Mount Penn as dawn inches its way in around the edges of night and day.
Groundhog cakes for sale at the bakery, $3 each. A flat basket holds four of them on a minimalistic bed of green shredded paper, two chocolate and two vanilla. After my visit the bakery has one fewer of the chocolate. Right out the door. Rich.
PARK NOTES: Pathling pairs: two parallel sticks, two bits of evergreen open to each other, two leaves make a kind of terpsichorean positioning statement.
Then begins a string of first aid supplies strewn on the screenings of the path: a white soft gauze sheet , originally mistaken for a dryer sheet, a piece of tissue, and a band-aid. These seem to tell the story of someone’s treatment unravelling along the way.
Further up is a drop-dead grungy glove warmer packet with green lettering: Be Responsible.
I turn around to complete my loop. A red Swedish fish catches some light of day. I recognise it as the fish I did not take a picture of in the snow. I find a fresh gum stick in its wrapper with red and black Trident printing. Did the bicyclist in the red jacket and dark pants just drop it or did I miss it on the way up? Sheer mystery of life!