Hasn't it been cold? The insides of my thighs are cold when I go jogging in the mornings. The hairs on my legs bristle, seemingly in the breeze, like Velcro. The cold air burns in my lungs, and I cough, just a bit, until my lungs warm up to it, which doesn’t take long, eventually it burns, just a bit, once I’ve gone the distance. My foggy head spins with the cold wind on my face, and is awakened all at the same time, as my feet go boof, boof, boof on the concrete.
The fragile beauty of the sunrise makes my heart beat faster, as the day breaks, and the light rises all around me as if out of the ground.
The contained beauty of the dark, gives away to the expansive beauty of the light. I run through the veil as it lifts and the dark goes away, and the sky above turns that shade of blue that you only see at first blush in the day.
And suddenly the world expands, with a gentle whoosh, well, not really a whoosh at all, more like a fffffffffff, as the air exhales from the dark of the night.
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