It was a lovely day. Was it a lovely day for you? It was a lovely day here. We’re in a nice long stretch of them, and it’s worth soaking up a little part of them whenever you can. I went out for a little run today, and before I started I stood under this beautiful old tree and watched the wind toss the limbs and leaves back and forth.
And then I ran two miles. I did not think of that tree again, which is a shame. It probably would have made the time pass more quickly, which would have been good, since I run slow. And it would have been less painful, since that’s a thing when you haven’t been running, and i haven’t been running. I should have thought of that tree.
We’re in this beautiful phase of things — and I suppose all of phases have their beauty — where the aging, shifting, changing seasons still have these beautiful colors we’re used to, but take on new hues.
The bees are unbothered, still going about their work with no additional hurry. Just the same amount of hurry they’ve always known. The same degree of purpose.
The still bright vibrant colors, the weathered, weary look. It captures a mood. Feeling it, but still here, still with our own purpose, still glorious. Still.
We all feel like that from time to time, I suppose. It can be beautiful.
Or maybe it was just the day. The angle of the sun this time of year, while we’re now so aware of being cheated, is simply stunning. This photo means nothing the rest of the year, maybe it means little now, but it’s playful, isn’t it? It’s full of expectation. It’s waiting for something.
I decided to try a little ride in the late afternoon, to see if I could pedal the run out of my legs. I went out seven miles into a headwind, the slowest, ploddingest ride I can muster. It was going so poorly I was able to compose this photo.
But then I turned around, and I put up perhaps some of the fastest splits I’ve done in … a while. Maybe that’s what makes the season, and days like today. It’s a sense from somewhere deep, deep enough you can’t ignore. So we try to absorb it through our eyes and skin and all of our senses because … we know. We know it’s only for the short while.
