Running for Your Life: Eyes on the Sky

This fall in my neighborhood in brownstone Brooklyn when you direct your gaze upward there seems to be more to see than usual at this time of year.

I don’t advise this practice on unfamiliar urban streets, or when the pedestrian traffic excites around school buildings and along the main thoroughfares.

But on a path toward Prospect Park, a mid-morning route I know so well (every sidewalk abrasion and gnarly tree pit) that I take with M and T (our coonhound-bloodhound mix), I like to look up as I walk along.

Skeletal branches of ginkgo trees, which lose their leaves like a grass skirt down slim hips, reveal bird nests touched by morning light.

Sky so blue it makes your heart ache.

In the park itself, the stands of London plane trees, scatters of dry leaves holding on like arthritic fists, are naked beauties that restore the glory of what being white can be.

And, soon, the golden larch is on fire. The one I like (at the eastern entrance to the Lullwater Bridge near the Boathouse) is near aglow.
Get there, if you can, or the equivalent place of calm in your neighborhood, and cast your eyes to the sky.

Next: Running for Your Life: Discovering Jon McGregor 

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