Run and See

The sun is bright, and the snow is melting. The sounds are of cars, driving, to and from unknown places. Icy patches are scattered across the sidewalk, and my feet thump, thump, thump, on the concrete. The air is cool, but my body is warm. I am running with my friend, and we are just steadily jogging. At the moment, I am not able to go fast, but take it one step at a time.

I hear my breaths and my shoes and sense the spring-like air, even though it is January. I notice everything around me. How the pine tree's branches lean across the sidewalk, making a shady underpass. The empty streets. The few cars, heading to different destinations. And an old woman, sitting alone in a sun hat and unzipped jacket, revealing a blue sweater. On her lap a little dog rests. She waves. My friend waves back. They both smile. The woman goes back to watching.

And I wonder, what is it she watches so contently? Is it people? Or, is it just the air, so crisp, and white, and the way it feels on warm skin? I like to think she watches winter turn to summer, as though we could all sit outside our houses and experience such an event.

What would our days become if we all sat upon our porch steps and watched the sun set and rise? If we let out bodies free, and ran off everything we thought, our skin pink, and heart pumping? I feel unleashed when I run. And the things I see and hear and smell...I know I am a writer when I see these things and wish I had paper. And I know I am a runner when I love cold air and my swinging legs.

And tomorrow I might sit on our hard concrete steps and watch the things around me for no particular reason. Maybe, my feet will take off and down the block I'll fly, hearing words skitter around in my mind, and begin another story.