But I run every other day, and this one, was a beauty.
Shorts-wearing weather, and sure enough, off I go. It’s what I do.
Pretty much every run for – I don’t know how long – I go
past a kite that has been trapped in a tree in Prospect Park, Brooklyn.
(Remember, if you are one of those folks of a certain age, Charlie Brown’s kite
in a tree? That’s what I’m talking about.)
It’s been at least a couple of seasons, but the colors of
the kite have not dimmed appreciably. In fact it is just beautiful, and in pristine
shape, and I start to think about the simple wonder of leaflessness. For months
at a time I can’t see the kite because it is obscured by the leaves in this
healthy oak tree.
Further on, I thrill with the look, the glistening quality
of the larch at the bridge overlook of the park’s boathouse: the golden aura of
this monument pine.
Next: Running for
Your Life: “They Go Low, We Go High” -- Discuss
