Running…to the place where streetlights give way to night sky, dark bowl with milky clouds, lights of a nearby city glowing orange on the horizon, Orion’s belt twinkling like a smile. Shadowed furrows of a field on my left waiting for crops, for spring’s warmth. Outstretched arms of dark walnut trees to my right, a mile row of them, magpies and crows settled into the upper reaches, squirrels nestled down in warm hollows.
I see them in the morning along this path, darting from tree to tree, the occasional squirrel not vigilant or fast enough to elude the tires of a speeding bicycle. But for now, only this, the dirt rows, skeleton limbs, night air fresh from the day’s rain and a sailor’s sky above, guiding me through the dark.
Sometimes a run is just a run and sometimes it is salvation. When do you most enjoy running (or walking) and where?