29 September 2009
The earth is turning brown and I'm turning white and the blue sky is old and no longer easily impressed. So I run.
The wind is getting cold and I'm getting older and everyone is getting older, too. New shoes, new shorts, worn trails, same changing seasons. Same changing seasons.
So I run.
It's a lonely car at 5:30 in the morning. After a long summer, even the sun is too tired to get up this early anymore. Sadie's head hangs out the window and I bundle up with an extra sweatshirt. There are lonely dirt roads at 5:53 in the morning.
The mountain is green from a distance but up close it's orange and yellow and red. Up close I am dark under the pine canopy. Up close my skin is creased and brown. Up close my fingers look no different than my grandfather's. So I run.
The earth turns brown and there is no one to impress. The seasons won't stop and the sun won't stop and the sky won't stop and the earth won't stop, so now I will run.