Early Start, With Ear Flip
The warm night wind blew round and round till it circled to a faraway storm. Morning comes, and mist settles over the river. It makes shadow puppet scenery with our horizons and the sun is a creamy blaze. Dog wakes reluctant, obedient. Me too. I put on my running shoes: she sighs: I know. Both of us will pad to the lane. We will breathe in musty farmyard, sour-fresh hedge, damp tarmac, we will feel the air, humid, moderate. Reluctance sheds off, I know it does. We pad to the lane, breathe in. The sequence occurs as expected, as previously experienced. The way Dog looks, an ear flip, a jaunty tongue, is firsthand delight. Untrammelled. We run. Some of it is plod and grumble. Some of it is pure sprint: uphill: steeply uphill. Some of it is stretch-the-legs (walking for a bit, whilst maintaining a mindset of running, which may or may not be cheating but at least is still moving.) All of it under this sky.