I ran today.  The first time since last Sunday’s run.  The first time in a week.

Just as Jack was every ounce of sailor, last Sunday’s run was every ounce of effort.  I had an extremely busy week so not only did I not have opportunity to run, I did not find time to finish the blog entry I began of last Sunday’s slogging.  Suffice it to say it was 7 kilometres of challenging mind training.

This morning I slept late.  It was luxurious and I awoke inside the spoon.  Following a lengthy session of synchronized spooning – you know, spoonstretchrollspoon set on automatic repeat – I checked the weather, pulled on some gear, tried to clear some of the nasal and chest congestion I felt upon waking and headed out the door.

At 7:00am the sun was already riding the hip of the horizon and the air was cool, fresh and palpably alive.  The heavy dew sketched webs in the grass and lay like layers of pale pink tulle over the tops of marsh grasses.

I set off east this morning, turning into the sun at the end of my laneway, with the intention of a short run in deference to my congestion.  In this direction I start on a downgrade and therefore end the run on an upgrade.  There are more homes and fewer farm fields to my east and the possibility of more traffic, though it was minimal this morning.

The small dense wooded areas between the highway and the river provided heavy shade, with glimpses of sunlight.  My feet felt great on the pavement and I marveled at the total sweetness of this run compared to last week’s.  My hands, loose and nonchalant, stayed cool throughout the run and my ankles, knees and hips were in a flow of almost effortlessness.  Not a twinge of any sort to command my loving compassionate awareness.

This was a time to breathe and be.  Listening to my foot falls and the birds, imagining the foot falls soft and quiet and thinking of picking up each foot rather than pushing off.  Squirrels chastened me, chittering cheekily from unseen tree limbs and the birds, unplugged, provided inspirational  melody.  For a moment I wondered when I had last used my ipod….

Today the roadsides are an amazing array of flora.   Morning glories – what an apt name – bursting into pale blue five pointed stars amid a confusion of crown vetch.  Dignified clusters of Queen Anne’s Lace unaffected by the showy, somewhat pretentious stands of purple loosestrife.  Scatterlings of susans.  Galores of goldenrod.  Calamities of cat tails.  Clover, common sorrel, wee eyebright.  Ditches of low wild blueberry bushes and a pale orange cache of chanterelles.

The upgrade home had me breathing heavy, a press in my chest of a bout of bronchitis which has been waltzing me on occasion, patiently awaiting a full dance card.

I brewed a cup of Chrysanthemum Nest tea to sip as I write this.  A good choice because, according to DavidsTea,

just holding it will make you think of chirping birds, sunny days and budding flowers.

I gathered him and slipped back to pick more than a taste of chanterelles.

he tests what we believe to be chanterelles

P.S. We are hoping they are chanterelles.  His insurance policy is better than mine, so he is the test.  This is why I love him so very much.

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