It was morning and it was dark. A light fog gripped the ground. I walked down the middle of a rural road before work. I wanted to set my mind right and walking as the light comes always does that for me.
Actually I was more limping than walking because of a slight calf strain the result of jogging on the beach. I wanted to get back to running, which used to be a big part of my life, but my body wasn’t quite ready for it—yet.
A bat flew across my path. Then another. I love bats! The ocean roared dull to my left. I stepped over some purple coyote scat full of blackberry seeds. I passed a house with an unkempt yard and a man was smoking a cigarette on the porch. Headlights approached and I moved to the shoulder. A truck zoomed by.
Light began to leak through the sky. I thought about the tasks ahead I would complete later that day. I thought about how I need to slow down and appreciate the haiku moments all around me. I thought about an extraordinary new person in my life who wants me running again.
I kept limping, trying to work out the strain. I picked up some large rocks with both hands and raised them up and down as I moved. A road workout. It must have looked odd, but no one was around to witness the oddity.
More light. The dawn was arriving and with it the promise of a new day in my new life.