A Morning Run

“Sometimes you will never know the value of a moment until it becomes a memory.” -Dr. Seuss

     The dew from the long grass envelopes my shoes as run past. Soaking them with every cold step across the field behind my house. I stride across the field to a large bush, which I go around around and into the forest. The ground littered in decomposing sticks and leaves. Making the landing of my feet feel soft with every step. Like I’m running on memory foam. I take a right at the intersection. Barely moving down this long corridor covered by leaning trees. 

    I run along the side of a big hill, to the left I see beaver pond. I speed up and can feel the cold wind I run up and down small hills, cold morning air burning though my lungs. The trail takes me alongside great views and alongside a marsh. I run by a river emitting white noise masking the sound of birds for a moment. Until it fades into the distance and quiets down. I run along swampy ground on wooden planks the move whenever you take a step. Sometimes marsh water spraying up at me when the planks submerge themselves under the mud. Splattering my legs in mud and dirt. 

    I take a left off the trail leading into a self made trail of cleared debris. I run up the steep hill and stop as I get to the top. I take a deep breath and consume the environment around me. I look out seeing the entire marsh and the pond in the near distance.  I sit down on the bench I made many years ago at this spot. Memory’s flowing through my mind as I think back to all the time I spent at this spot. I jog back down the hill contriving this memory into my mind forever.