Journal Entry, September 28, 2010, Good Morning, Moon

Five miles.

The morning Moon follows me today on my run.

Good morning, Moon in White.

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Good morning, ducks flying over the Moon. (I know you are ducks because you always look like you are in such a rush when you are flying, your wings flapping fast, fast, fast.)

Good morning, white butterfly, fluttering by.

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Good morning, East Sun, as you chase the West Moon…your rising is quite like a golden balloon.

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Good morning, orange pine needles, on whom I run. Thank you, you cushion my step in your criss-crossed fun,

And good morning to you, cattails’ shredding tufts…you make me think of white cotton ball puffs.

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Good morning, windy wind, as you hurry clouds on their way

And blow red leaves and red leaves from trees as they sway.

Good morning, aspen trees with your trunk’s wide white eyes and your turning leaves that shimmer like shell-like wind chimes.

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Good morning to the quarter and copper pennies that I find

And I bow and say Good Morning! to each handsome magpie.

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As we run, the Moon catches me, saying, Tag, you are it! So I turn and chase Her ‘til Noon when She sets.

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GL, 9/28/2010. Prevail.