Outside!

I tried a treadmill only once, last winter, when it was dark, dark and the rains made the pavement unsafe.  Thank goodness the weather has been unusually fair and lovely this year, because I found the treadmill confusing and depressing and boring.  

Besides, there is so much to see outside, especially now that it is spring.

This morning just after I set out on my run, I saw an older gentleman shuffling along the sidewalk with a frail little poodle.  The man was looking at the ground but something made him look up.  I was wearing headphones, so I didn't hear what it was.  Then he waved and spoke to someone ahead of me, across the street, and as I rounded a huge bush, I saw it was a dangerous looking teenager, just coming out of his house.  The boy smiled, too, waved, and hurried away.  I loved that tiny exchange; in a single moment both faces were transformed, alive and bright.  

A few blocks later, close to the elementary school, I saw a little girl on her bicycle.  I am happy to report that this time she was not talking on her bubble gum pink cell phone, which she had been doing earlier this week.

Later I saw a fat robin on a fence, in a shaft of sunlight.  I have seen several great herons; last winter one floppy-swooped off my neighbor's roof right above me!  Murmurations — I've seen so many.  Even if you hate starlings, like I do, still, a murmuration is an impressive sight.  And once a squirrel scampered down a tree and ran along beside me for almost a full block, again and again glancing over, as if to say, Woman!  What the hell?!

At about the three-mile point this morning, I turned a corner and saw a man standing in his front walkway, with keys dangling from one hand, as if about to go to work.  Just standing, his back to me.  I saw an animal away down the block, and wondered for a second if it was a dog, his dog, and was a tiny bit nervous.  (I have always been a smidgen apprehensive about loose dogs, but was bitten by a Rottweiler over the spring break, and am, you know, just a smidgen more apprehensive since.)  But it was a cat. 

As I approached the house, I saw that this fellow was talking with a woman standing in the doorway.  She was leaning against the doorjamb wearing only a big towel; her hair was wet.  I made eye contact with the woman, briefly, and then looked away.  Neither took notice of me.  I had caught them in that moment of relaxed intimacy.  Ordinary people, but in that moment, so beautiful.

Since I spend so much time alone in a dark sound booth, there is something comforting about knowing that folks are living their little lives, just like I am, knowing that all around me stories are unfolding.  I do not love running, but I do love being out in my neighborhood, out in this lovely, messy world.