It's really more of a blargh.

Thursday, November 18, 2010

City Park, 6:10 a.m.

I awoke this morning to the shocking realization I had actually been asleep.  How utterly refreshing.

Out the door and pounding the pavement at 6 a.m., I watched my breath escape in curling puffs of fog as I ran very, very gently down the road toward the city park. (Gotta watch the knees.)    One of my favorite sights has become the billow of steam rolling off of the sawmill on the edge of town, visible from my front stoop.  It's become a daily reassurance to touch upon.  If logs are rolling, the world's still spinning and everything will inevitably go until it.... stops.

I make it to the park, kick it into gear and cut through a couple of laps, eyeballing my surroundings as I go.  I spot an old-school swingset.  I flick water off the plastic seat with my purple mitten, plop my 28-year-old bum down and fling my legs back with abandon as the sun rises reluctantly.  Creak, creak, creak, creak.  This is the sound of innocence to me.  
 

  

1 comment:

  1. Lovely post. How wonderful to have the energy to run, but then you have youth on your side! I just dropped by to thankyou for the lovely comment you left for me.

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