|These photos were taken at noon today.|
Because I think about running now the way I used to think about romance and traveling, with a passionate almost obsessive frequency, the Creek right now makes me think of a runner. So I wrote a little haiku:
She runs not to win.
Fueled by snowmelt, she races
To freeze, burn, worship.
The creek can be dangerous (this sign is just off the bridge on the sidewalk that goes to my library):
But it makes the trail to Boulder Canyon nice and cool:
Since it's poetry day on my blog, here's a shot of one of my library's "Poets' Way" tiles. It says, "I leave no trace of wings in the air/But I am glad I had my flight."--Rabindranath Tagore
A good theme for an average runner: no one will remember our times, but we're glad we had our flights.