Waited until the temperature reached 0 degrees Celsius before venturing out for an hour of walk/run intervals through McDowell Grove:
The mid afternoon sun low in the sky provides a pale light and pleasant warmth. A few leaves cling to the trees like visiting relatives who have stayed on well past the holiday. Rigid brown stalks of goldenrod are laden with fuzzed seed heads nodding in the breeze. The silence broken only by limestone rubble crunching underfoot, I fall into this primordial means of human locomotion. No destination nor time of arrival; only the journey.
Sweeping November’s collection of organic debris from the patio,
Warm spring air in the cool winter light
Last gasp for a dry and feeble wasp crawling up the red brick wall
A shirtless runner silently lopes along Ogden Avenue his feet barely touching the pavement.
Acrid smell of seared flesh as neighbor sacrifices a pig or maybe a goat on his balcony’s Weber pyre.