Crunch. My Inov-8s leave a deep footprint in the hoar frost.
Crack. The semi-frozen sand gives way to a soft layer beneath the crispy crust.
Splash. I break through the thin layer of ice on a large puddle spread out across the trail.
Flutter. A pack of juncos scatter as I run past.
Ahhhh. I breathe in the cool December air.
Caw. The crows call from their perch in the upper branches of the pine trees.
Grrr. What? You want me to take the garbage to the dumpster before I come in?! :-) Guess it all can't be serene!
[6 miles on the extended Homeplace loop.]
Thanksgiving Camp 2024
2 weeks ago
4 comments:
Damn that Ryan...
see, I think that counts as poetry :)
Click. Next time I won't unlock the door.
You got it, Jamie! :-)
Ryan, that is just not nice! ;-)
Valerie, thanks, although I am not sure I am eloquent enough to be a poet. But I get bored of just narrating each run, so this was something a bit different!!
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