This morning’s run is dedicated to an army brother who fell a few days ago, just one day before I arrived to catch up with him.
As I approached the mountains this morning, the clouds alight with a promise of sun, I took the high road, camera in hand. All the while, I knew the colors wouldn’t last. It looked as if it might rain, but I imagined the pictures I’d get if I got there on time.
A few years had gone by, so little did I know he was even in pain. There’s a second where I wondered if I could have done something to change the outcome. Never-the-less, the fate of people and time takes its course. Winter happens upon us all. I’m relieved it hasn’t taken me when I’ve felt its chilly breath at my own back.
When I arrived at the top, I could see all below. But to my disappointment, the clouds had consumed the sun and painted skies gray. So I sat there a moment looking off in the distance, wondering what kind of life I lived. Racing here and to, with some destination in mind. Had I been true to myself and would I look back and smile once I reached the horizon?
SO, hello. I’m here. Now. Taking a moment to reflect and connect with what’s around me. I’m breathing. Alive. And thankful to experience another glimpse of color, though the colors keep changing and fading.
And here’s to the man whom I met when I was 18 at Fort Huachuca, to the memories I have of him and fellow soldiers with us in Mainz, for some time Between Bosnia and Kosovo.
I am lucky I have these to enjoy until then.