Early Start, With Ear Flip


The warm night wind blew round and round till it circled to a faraway storm. 
Morning comes, and mist settles over the river. It makes shadow puppet scenery with our horizons and the sun is a creamy blaze.
Dog wakes reluctant, obedient. Me too. 
I put on my running shoes: she sighs: I know. 
Both of us will pad to the lane. We will breathe in musty farmyard, sour-fresh hedge, damp tarmac, we will feel the air, humid, moderate. Reluctance sheds off, I know it does.
We pad to the lane, breathe in. 
The sequence occurs as expected, as previously experienced. The way Dog looks, an ear flip, a jaunty tongue, is firsthand delight. Untrammelled. We run.
Some of it is plod and grumble. Some of it is pure sprint: uphill: steeply uphill. Some of it is stretch-the-legs (walking for a bit, whilst maintaining a mindset of running, which may or may not be cheating but at least is still moving.)
All of it under this sky. 

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