Boys in the rain

On the past weekend’s little trail runs I remembered (a long ago running partner) Rick Shaeffer’s comment: When I was little. my mom shouted “Come out of the rain, stop jumping in puddles, you’ll get wet and dirty.” Now I run in the rain, jump in the puddles and take photos of mud-splats all over me”. Okay maybe I made up some of the words but you get the idea. I imagined the light in his grin.

For the last gasp

Back in the city-grime on its hard roads. Long weekend treat in a nature reserve: what of those riverside trails in the earliest light, mist on the water; hands-in-sleeves cold, grass wet, leaves drip, grin stretched up to the snow-topped mountains? Well they’re etched deep enough to last past my last gasp.