The Lakes are Open

And by open I mean closed; as in, frozen over so we can run on them. Every year in November and December I go about disliking the cold and darkness of winter along with just about everyone I know. Then, usually sometime around mid-January I'll have a run that changes everything. One singular, unexpected run that reminds me in spectacular fashion that oh yeah, I'm a winter lover. Winter is prickly and difficult and takes effort to get to know, but with that one run I remember why we're friends and always will be.

This year it happened last week, on a weeknight run just around dusk. Derrick and I ventured out on a local lake just in time to watch the fading sunset. It was a still, serene night, and the sky turned a rich, deep blue above the orange of the last rays. A crescent moon hung right above the horizon, with bright Mercury underneath. The silence on the lake added to the profoundly beautiful evening. It fills me with gratitude for all the best things about our lives on this earth and a longing that I can't explain and bitter-sweetness that I can't put into words. It diminishes trivialities and takes me far away from everything and everyone with just a few steps onto a frozen land under a vast universe.

Experimenting with Vert Panos: