A day that must be the mirror of my heaven. All locked up in a treasured memory for me to peer back whenever I please.
Never a better Saturday than one that begins with a long morning run. Because of the glorious sunshine, first run of the season in shorts! My favorite and most-awaited run of the entire year!
Nearing six miles out on my course, a town race began, and I found myself running against a headwind of people. They smelled like fair food. And hogged the sidewalk. So I rerouted into the sidestreets and headed for the mountains. Ran higher and higher, until I was well on top of the city and bounding down dirt-trodden paths of the mountain's edge. The sunshine soaked into my skin, and I inhaled the fresh scent of new spring growth, recalling memories of my childhood and biking around the dirt trails behind our home. My happiness rang so purely.
I decided to ascend further up the mountain, disregarding all designated trails. Almost vertically upward, I crawled on my hands and knees, pulling at weeds and rocks to lift me higher, ignoring the burn in my legs. Once I was high enough to be scared of the fall back down, I sat down on the cliff and looked out over the city. I've experienced the happiest of times here, and also the saddest. This is where I became who I am.
I descended, skidding down the rocks and plants, scratching up my arms just a bit. I continued my run down the mountain's edge, towards home. Finding dirt bike jumps, I ran up and down and back and forth, laughing and enjoying my running playground. I kept running down the mountain until I arrived in the back of my neighborhood, through the streets, and on home.
I stopped for a glass of water and washed some sweat salt off my face. Then I jumped in my car and headed to a frisbee game with my friend Jeff. We played for a couple hours with a large group of his friends, until my muscles ached from an entire day of running. A full day outside, and my skin was beautifully stained with the sun.
I came home to read more of the book that I checked out from the library just the night before, a story that will now forever be one of my favorites. While dusk fell through the front window, I took pictures of my favorite parts and texted them to my mom. "Ma, it's like we're in a book club!" Ha, kind of. Except in book clubs, everyone reads the full book, not just texted snippets. "Wow. I'd hate to be a part of something so inefficient."
Then I chopped, grilled, and cooked, while watching my favorite show, and again, I felt the same ringing happiness. Enough to make my eyes water up this time. I curled up on our new back patio furniture and again entered the trance of my book, massaging my strong, satisfied leg muscles.
Later, Kersti and I strung lights around our backyard, awaiting our company that evening. I got ready in my bathroom to the glow of candlelight, reading my eight mantras aloud, and feeling so complete. Lovely.
Handfuls of friends arrived, through the back gate and the front door. Our home is an open welcome. Our backyard and kitchen filled with chattering and laughing. We opened our back gate and ran out into the field behind our house. Playing games in the darkness. Then returning home, gathering under the stars, roasting s'mores on sticks in the bonfire, and sharing stories and laughing. Such sharp and witty minds. They were very curious about my trip to the Philippines, and I was happy. Again my eyes watered at my backyard full of friends and the lights and stars above us.
Well into the evening, when our eyelids grew heavy and the embers were dimming, we poured out the fire and said goodbyes. I trailed up the stairs, carrying all my joy from just one day, and fell asleep with ashes still in my hair.
A brightly beaming to twinkling nightfall, perfect day.
Upward and onward,