March 2010

[Sweder]

Another stunning morning arrives to tease me. Frosted trees, sparkling rooftops, blinding sunshine, unsullied by cloud, beaming through my bathroom window. I can no more run today than fly above my beloved hills, the remnants of my latest infestation still rumbling darkly in my chest.

Looking out across the valley, a broth of deep mist lounging across the town, I'm reminded of a day in May 2007 when, having risen early to run before a flight to Istanbul, I was treated to a similar scene. I wrote:

For so long it seemed a nailed-on certainty that Shine On You Crazy Diamond ... would walk off with the (track du jour) plaudits. This soothed its way onto my I-pod just as I crested the stables rise on the homeward leg, a little after 6am. Languid clouds lay dormant in the Ouse valley, translucent leviathans sleeping in after a cool, damp night. Even as I watched the sun's warmth appeared to wake them. They drifted, one by one, misty zeppelins loosed from their moorings, rising gently towards the east.

Reading that, and looking out on a perfect dawn on the cusp of Spring, I can't wait to pull on my running boots and get back to the downland trails.