Did some work which needed to be done, and felt better for it. I walked for a long time in the woods and took the path I have always been a little afraid of. Past derelict house and through mysterious stink. I wasn't expecting the path to get so steep but all of a sudden I was pushing pushing pushing up a steep viney rooty eroded red-clay mess of a hill. My calves burned and the top of the hill would not happen. I was so far away from the joggers, the loudest sounds were my footsteps and my breathing. There was a clearing at the top of the hill - it wasn't clear, but it didn't have any trees in it - where I could cool down and play hunter-gatherer with wild blackberries, every other one sweet, every other one sour or buggy, my hands purple, like childhood.