Little bits of gravel scatter under my feet as I run
A cold front blew in the other day
So where it was 100 degrees, it’s now 59
My body adjusts
My mind is cleared.
There is only the wind, sweeping this valley floor
Running is a therapy
It’s not a metaphor of me running from my problems or fears
It’s showing me the beauty of this ranch in ways that I don’t see horseback
And makes me feel strong.
The fence needs fixing here and possibly a new brace,
All of a sudden I decide just what I want to write for that chapter,
And the realization that this rift between us could be permanent if I don’t repair it, Hits me hard.
Fat Albert pretends to be spooked as I run back from the river, he bows away from the fence, blowing rollers into the wind, his tail whipping out behind him. He long trots beside me and I laugh out loud.
I make it back to the bunkhouse and the excitement of the dogs waiting there for me.
I can start the actual work of the day,
Now that the biggest challenge has been overcome.
xo xo Liz