Running ages-10

The 10 year-old in me enjoys my running antics. His cheers are loud. He finds my name in the results; not worrying I don’t make the headlines.

He loves the peeling naartjie smell, how his mouth sucks at its taste-burst after a run.

The taste is as fresh as that of the ones he used to take from Mr le Roux’s orchard next door, even when he shot near us with his pellet gun; teaching us to run and hurdle fences.

Oh and naartjies are great with an espresso.

(a naartjie is South African word for an easy peeling, if it gets enough water during growing, citrus fruit also known as a mandarin,  tangerine and Citrus reticulata; perfect for maintaining post or during run hydration or for stealing from the neighbour)

Co-incidence

Moon high, Venus bright in a clear sky, city still; mountain quiet under its cloud; silence of a crisp morning before the first bird. Three joys of winter. Focus: car backs from garage at me padding the middle road, bright headlights rush at us. Three beings at the same place and time. Eyes brighten, breathing deepens, the road softens.