Today (Nov. 25) the winds came on a run. Thurber had the
morning; I had a blissful hour before going to work. These are the days that I
feel I can run forever. Brisk fall. Up and into the park, the leaves crunch
underfoot. I ran – and it was beautiful – but, alas, I did not catch my leaf.
Ah, yes, the leaves. I fear another season is upon me during
which I will not catch in my bare hand a falling leaf as I run through the
park. Tomorrow (Nov. 26), the forecast is for a final leaf shakedown of a nor’
easter, within which I will not run because of the very real possibility of
injury from fallen branches, a clearer danger now than in years past due to the
decline in tree maintenance from budget cuts that swept every public department
in my adopted country since Ronald Reagan and his merry men and women
perpetrated the fable that government defunding would encourage private
investment in job-creating capital, the bastard son of trickle-down, what was
good for the billionaires was good for the nation.
All of which is to say that if I were put odds on my
catching a leaf of those that will fall from near-barren trees during the days
after the nor’ easter, I’d have to put it down to about one in a million.
But, in my running-for-your-life life, I like those odds.
Next: Running for Your Life: After Ferguson
